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TIM 


T  I  M 

L, 


1  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  women 


MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 

AND    NEW    YORK 


All  rights  reserved 


First  Edition  October  1891 
Reprinted  November  1891 


In  compliance  with  current  copyright 

law,  U.  C.  Library  Bindery  produced 

this  replacement  volume  on  paper 

that  meets  the  ANSI  Standard  Z39.46- 

1984  to  replace  the  irreparably 

deteriorated  original 

1996 


IT 


MA/ivl 


To  her  for  whose  entertainment  it  was  originally  written, 
this  story  belongs  as  of  right.  On  the  shrine  of  her 
deathless  memory  I  lay  my  little  book. 


CHAPTER  I 

And  he  wandered  away  and  away 
With  Nature  the  dear  old  nurse, 

Who  sang  to  him,  night  and  day, 
The  rhymes  of  the  universe. 

LONGFELLOW'S  Fiftieth  Birthday  of  Agassiz. 

TIM'S  real  name  wa$  .not  Tim  :  so  much  is 
certain.  What  it  was/ii  have-'  never  'inquired. 
The  nickname  had  been  :  bestowed; :  on\\him 
so  early  in  life  that  the  memory  of  such  men 
and  women  as  knew  him  ran  not  to  the 
contrary.  Tim  was  Tim  by  immemorial 
custom  ;  even  his  father,  who  had  little  rever 
ence  for  established  usages,  never  thought  of 
altering  this  one,  and,  as  one  name  is  as  good 
as  another,  we  too  will  call  him  by  the  only 
one  by  which  he  was  ever  known. 

*       C  '  .  B 


2  TIM  CHAP. 

Tim  was  a  slightly -made,  lean,  brown 
child,  but  without  the  pretty  colour  brown 
children  usually  have.  He  had  such  regular 
little  features  and  such  a  pale  little  face  that 
he  might  almost  have  been  called  faded,  had 
he  ever  looked  otherwise.  Mrs.  Quitchett 
had  pronounced  him  to  be  '  the  thinnest  and 
lightest  baby  ever  she  see,'  when  he  was 
transferred  to  her  care  from  that  of  the 
monthly  nurse,  in  which  opinion  she  was  sup 
ported  by  that  lady,  who  might  be  said  to 
be  an  authority  on  such  matters.  Possibly 
she  too  might  throw  some  light  on  the 
question  of  how  he  came  by  that  pre- 
baptii-rnil  r-ickna-ne  of  his,  for  she  alone 
had  had  much  to  do  with  him  previous  to 
the  day  when  he  had  been  carried,  a  poor 
little  skinny  Christian-elect,  to  be  received 
into  the  pale  of  the  Church. 

That  event  was  seven  years  into  the  past 
at  the  time  I  write  of,  and  Tim,  despite  his 
puny  appearance,  having  struggled  through  the 
usual  maladies  of  childhood,  and  cut  several 


i  TIM  3 

of  his  second  teeth,  was  living  in  an  old  house 
in  one  of  the  western  counties  of  England. 

The  Stoke  Ashton  manor-house,  of  which 
the  most  modern  rooms  dated  from  the  days 
of  Elizabeth,  had  been  the  home  of  the 
Darley  family  through  ages  of  unbroken 
descent,  until  a  part  of  it  having  been 
destroyed  by  fire  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1780,  the  then  existing  Darley  had  built  the 
big  house  up  in  the  park,  and  called  it 
Darley  Court.  Thenceforward  for  the  next 
seventy  years  or  so,  what  was  left  of  the 
manor-house  became  the  abode  of  widowed 
mothers,  spinster  sisters,  or  married  sons, 
until  the  day  when,  no  such  relative  laying 
claim  to  it  at  the  moment,  old  Squire 
Darley  let  it  to  Tim's  parents. 

The  first  seven  years  of  the  child's  life  in 
the  queer  old  house  could  not  well  have 
been  less  eventful.  He  was  happy  enough 
in  the  company  of  Mrs.  Quitchett  and  his 
old  setter  Bess,  partly  perhaps  from  never 
having  known  any  other. 


4  TIM  CHAP. 

'His    father,'     nurse     told    him,    'was    in 
India.' 

1  Where  was  that  ? '  asked  Tim. 

'  Oh  !  a  long  way  off.' 

'  Farther  than  Granthurst  ? ' 

'  Yes,  much  farther.' 

The  schoolmaster,  who  came  and  gave 
him  a  lesson  now  and  then,  showed  him 
India  on  the  map,  but  he  was  not  much  the 
wiser.  His  mother,  Mrs.  Quitchett  never 
mentioned,  and  as  she  never  introduced  the 
subject,  he  asked  no  questions,  having  the 
habit  of  deferring  to  her  in  all  matters,  and 
her  rule,  though  absolute,  was  not  a  hard  one. 
There  was  only  one  point  on  which  he  ever 
questioned  her  authority  :  in  his  determina 
tion  on  no  account  to  wear  a  hat,  he  was 
adamant.  We  all  have  our  idiosyncrasies, 
and  this  was  Tim's.  On  Sundays  alone 
could  he  be  prevailed  upon  to  allow  a  small 
round  covering  of  mixed  straw  to  be  stuck 
on  the  extreme  back  of  his  head,  when  Mrs. 
Quitchett  took  him  to  church  in  his  best 


i  TIM  5 

clothes.  At  first,  when  he  was  very  little, 
his  picture-book  used  to  be  taken  with  him  ; 
but  when  he  was  considered  to  have  reached 
an  age  at  which  the  rector's  discourses  would 
be  of  service  to  him,  this  indulgence  was 
withdrawn,  and  he  found  thenceforward  his 
principal  entertainment  in  the  painted  window 
just  opposite  his  seat.  It  had  been  put  up 
in  memory  of  some  dead  child,  and  the 
subject  had  a  great  fascination  for  Tim,  who 
used  to  call  it  'his'  window.  It  represented  a 
long  stretch  of  quiet  upland,  arched  by  a 
twilight  sky  paling  into  a  streak  of  soft  light 
where  it  disappeared  on  the  distant  horizon  ; 
walking  across  the  green  came  the  tender 
gracious  figure  of  the  good  shepherd  bearing 
a  lamb  in  his  loving  arms.  Tim  knew  just 
such  a  bit  of  down  where  the  lambs  played, 
and  could  almost  fancy  sometimes  that  he 
saw  the  figure  coming  towards  him  from  out 
of  the  sunset.  The  whole  picture  was  sub 
dued  in  colouring,  and  set  for  sharp  contrast 
in  a  frame  of  tall  lilies  and  jubilant  golden- 


6  TIM  CHAP. 

haired  angels.  Not  less  bright  was  the  head 
of  the  Squire's  little  grandson,  who  some 
times  knelt  in  the  big  Court  pew  hard  by, 
where,  almost  hidden  from  the  rest  of  the 
church,  old  Mr.  Darley  persisted  in  attending 
worship,  to  the  scandal  of  his  daughter  Miss 
Kate,  who  inclined  to  High  Church,  and  to 
whom  tall  family  pews  which  turned  their 
backs  on  the  altar  were  an  abomination. 

Thus  once  a  week  did  Tim  conform  to 
laws  social  and  religious,  but  the  other  six 
days  saw  him  scudding  bareheaded  over  the 
fields,  searching  for  flowers  along  the  hedge 
rows,  or,  tired  at  last  with  his  wanderings, 
sitting  by  the  side  of  some  little  brook 
nursing  his  knees,  and  singing  low  to  himself 
little  quaint  snatches  of  song  culled  here  and 
there  from  old  books,  and  set  to  the  nursery 
tunes  Mrs.  Quitchett  hummed  to  him,  or  to 
others  picked  up,  Heaven  knows  where, — 
perhaps  from  the  birds. 

No  place  came  amiss  to  Tim  as  a  resting- 
place  except  a  chair ;  he  would  sit  on  the 


i  TIM  7 

soft  green  grass,  in  a  tree,  on  a  stile,  a  table,  a 
window-sill, — anywhere  but  on  those  articles 
of  furniture  which  custom  has  set  aside  for 
the  purpose.  In  the  winter  he  and  Bess 
curled  themselves  up  in  the  shaggy  bearskin 
rug  before  the  fire  and  fell  asleep  ;  in  the 
summer  he  sat  in  the  patches  of  sun  on  the 
carpet,  and  told  Bess  stories  from  the  Arabian 
Nights,  of  which  he  had  discovered  a  copy 
with  pictures  in  the  old  library.  The  fairy 
Pari-banou  unlocked  the  wonders  of  her 
palace  for  that  patient  hound  ;  Prince  Firouz 
Shah  flew  by  on  the  enchanted  horse, 
Morgiana  whirled  in  her  dance,  and  Gulnar^ 
rose  from  the  sea  to  be  the  bride  of  the 
Persian  king ;  only  the  story  of  the  lady  who 
whipped  the  little  dogs  Tim  never  related, 
out  of  consideration  for  his  companion's 
feelings. 

Such  was  Tim's  life  :  reading  to  a  dog, 
singing  to  the  streams,  having  fellowship 
with  birds  and  flowers,  in  a  strange  world  of 
his  own  creation,  hatless,  lean,  brown,  and 


8  TIM  CHAP. 

happy.  The  hours  slipped  softly  by  him  with 
out  his  noting  their  passing.  He  knew  when 
it  was  Sunday,  was  glad  when  it  was  fine, 
not  sorry  when  it  rained,  full  of  strange 
dreams  and  fancies,  companionless  yet  not 
alone,  for  nature  was  with  him.  And  so  Tim 
grew  to  be  eight  years  old. 

One  day  the  postman  brought  Mrs. 
Quitchett  a  letter  which  had  come  all  the 
way  from  India, — and  a  long  way  it  was  in 
those  days  when  no  Suez  Canal  existed  to 
shorten  the  journey.  The  letter  had  no 
beginning,  because  Tim's  father,  who  had 
written  it,  was  a  man  who  never  quite  knew 
how  to  begin  his  letters  to  an  old  nurse.  To 
say  'Dear  Mrs.  Quitchett'  seemed  to  imply 
undue  familiarity.  '  Madam  '  was  altogether 
out  of  the  question.  'Mrs.  Quitchett'  sounded 
harsh  and  dictatorial,  which  he  had  no  wish 
to  be,  and  to  write  a  long  letter  in  the  third 
person  would  have  been  a  needless  exertion. 
So  the  letter  came  to  the  point  at  once, 
without  preliminary  compliment. 


i  TIM  9 

'You  will  perhaps  be  surprised  to  hear,' 
it  said,  in  neat  upstrokes  and  downstrokes 
and  beautifully  straight  lines,  '  that  I  intend 
coming  home  for  good.  My  doctor  strongly 
advises  my  leaving  India,  and  I  am  the  more 
inclined  to  consent  that  I  am  very  desirous  of 
seeing  my  son,  to  whom  I  am  of  opinion  that 
the  personal  care  of  a  father  may  be  of  more 
service  during  such  time  as  I  am  spared  to 
him,  than  a  somewhat  larger  fortune  at  my 
death.' 

Nurse  Quitchett  glanced  over  her  ven 
erable  spectacles  at  Tim,  who  was  lying 
asleep  on  the  window-seat,  with  his  arm 
round  the  neck  of  the  faithful  Bess,  but 
returned  without  making  any  remark  to  her 
reading.. 

'  You  will  have  the  goodness  to  acquaint 
my  son  with  my  change  of  plans.  I  shall 
probably  reach  home  by  about  October,  and 
shall  hope  to  find  my  boy  ready  to  give  me  a 
welcome.  I  am  afraid  his  education  must 
have  been  rather  neglected,  but  he  is  young 


10  TIM  CHAP. 

yet,  and  that  deficiency  may  easily  be  supplied  ; 
while  I  am  sure  that  in  your  hands  his  health 
at  least  must  have  been  well  looked  after. 
I  have  always  disapproved  of  the  selfishness 
of  some  Indian  parents  who,  keeping  their 
children  with  them  in  an  unhealthy  climate 
for  their  own  gratification,  injure  their  health 
perhaps  for  life.  I  hope  to  be  repaid  for  my 
six  years'  separation  from  my  only  child  by 
finding  a  true,  sturdy  little  pink -and -white 
Briton  waiting  to  greet  me  on  my  return. 
With  my  best  thanks  for  your  care  of  the  boy 
and  the  regular  reports  you  have  sent  me  of 
him,  believe  me,  truly  yours, 

1  WILLIAM  EBBESLEY.' 

Mrs.  Quitchett  put  down  the  letter,  took 
off  her  glasses,  which  were  somehow  quite  wet, 
and  looked  again,  not  without  apprehension, 
at  the  sleeping  boy.  In  vain  she  tried  to  make 
any  of  the  epithets  used  in  the  letter  fit  the 
child  before  her  :  he  was  as  unlike  the  picture 
of  the  true,  sturdy  little  pink-and-white  Briton, 


i  TIM  ii 

on  which  his  father's  fancy  dwelt  so  fondly,  as 
one  boy  could  be  unlike  another. 

William  Ebbesley,  observing  that  Anglo- 
Indian  babies  were  as  a  rule  small  and  sallow, 
had  concluded,  with  defective  logic,  that  his 
child,  not  being  brought  up  in  India,  would 
be  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  He  had 
thought  of  this  imaginary  child  of  his,  until, 
Prometheus-like,  he  had  given  life  to  the 
figure  he  had  himself  created  ;  and  had  any 
one  cared  to  inquire  what  the  boy  was  like, 
would  unhesitatingly  have  described  him. 
Nowadays  his  illusions  would  be  rudely  dis 
pelled  by  photography  ;  but  when  Tim  was  a 
child,  the  art  was  also  in  its  infancy,  and  it 
had  not  become  the  fashion  to  have  babies 
photographed  once  a  year.  On  one  occasion, 
when  Tim  was  three  years  old,  Mrs.  Quitchett 
had  set  up  his  hair  in  a  sort  of  crest  and 
carried  him  to  a  neighbouring  town  to  be 
photographed,  but  the  child  could  not  be  got 
to  sit  still,  and  ended  by  a  flood  of  tears,  so 
that  the  little  card  which  finally  went  to  Mr. 


1 2  TIM  CHAP. 

Ebbesley  was  hardly  satisfactory  as  a  likeness. 
Mrs.  Quitchett  herself  confessed  as  much, 
and  the  father  was  quite  indignant  at  this  libel 
on  his  child.  It  never  even  occurred  to  him 
that  the  photograph,  bad  as  it  was,  had  at 
least  been  taken  from  the  real  boy,  and  as 
such  might  be  nearer  the  truth  than  the 
portrait  his  fancy  had  painted. 

Writing  not  being  a  strong  point  of  Mrs. 
Ouitchett's,  her  epistolary  style  was  remark 
able  chiefly  for  its  terseness,  and  she  would 
as  soon  have  thought  of  writing  a  novel  at 
once  as  of  launching  into  any  description  of 
Tim's  appearance,  beyond  such  casual  ex 
pressions  of  admiration  as  nurses  use  of  their 
bantlings,  and  which  are  not  meant  to  be 
taken  literally. 

After  a  while  Tim  stirred  uneasily,  and 
Bess,  roused  into  semi-consciousness  by  his 
change  of  position,  put  up  her  cold  nose  and 
touched  his  cheek.  The  boy  woke  with  a  start 
and  sat  up,  to  find  the  eyes  of  his  old  nurse 
fixed  on  him  with  an  expression  he  had  never 


i  TIM  13 

seen  in  them  before  ;  it  was  gone  as  soon  as 
she  saw  that  he  was  awake,  but  not  before  he 
had  remarked  it,  and  springing  quickly  to  her 
he  asked,  '  Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that  ? 
What  have  you  got  there  ? ' 

The  second  question  happily  furnishing 
nurse  with  an  excuse  for  evading  the  first, 
which  she  would  have  been  puzzled  how  to 
answer,  'It's  a  letter  from  your  papa,'  she 
said,  'and  I've  got  a  surprise  for  you;  what 
do  you  think  is  going  to  happen  ? ' 

'  He's  coming  home,'  replied  Tim  quietly, 
as  if  he  had  known  it  all  along. 

'Law  bless  the  boy!'  called  out  Mrs. 
Quitchett.  '  Whoever  could  have  told  you  ? 
But  there!  nobody  could,  for  I've  just  this 
minute  finished  reading  the  letter,  and  it's 
not  been  out  of  my  hand.' 

Tim  nodded  sagaciously:  'I  dreamed  it,' 
he  said,  as  he  walked  off  into  the  garden, 
leaving  his  nurse  in  that  condition  which  she 
would  herself  have  described  as  a  capability 
of  being  knocked  down  with  a  feather. 


14  TIM  CHAP. 

'  Well,  of  all  the  out-of-the-way  odd  children 
ever  I  see  !'  she  ejaculated  under  her  breath  ; 
and  then  the  father's  picture  of  the  little 
Briton  recurred  to  her  so  pathetically  comic 
in  its  contrast  to  facts,  that  she  could  not  help 
smiling,  though  the  tears  followed  close  after, 
as  she  thought,  '  He'll  come  between  me  and 
my  boy  ;  well,  I  ought  to  ha'  known  how  it 
would  be.' 

But  though  the  old  nurse  might  shed  a 
few  tears  in  private,  and  to  Tim  the  words 
'  My  father  is  coming '  conveyed,  it  is  true, 
some  misty  sense  of  approaching  change,  the 
letter  and  its  contents  left  no  perceptible 
mark  on  the  inhabitants  of  the  manor-house. 
Mrs.  Quitchett  could  not  spare  much  time 
to  speculation,  and  her  charge  had  not  con 
tracted  the  habit  of  looking  ahead ;  what 
difference  his  father's  home-coming  would 
make  in  his  life  he  knew  not,  and  scarcely 
cared  to  imagine. 

The  summer  passed  away  in  no  respect 
unlike  those  other  five  or  six  he  could 


i  TIM  is 

remember.  The  roses  bloomed  and  paled 
and  fell ;  the  birds  built  their  nests,  laid  their 
eggs,  hatched  and  reared  their  young,  all  in 
due  order ;  the  cornfields  passed  through  all 
their  accustomed  phases  ;  July  succeeded  to 
June,  August  to  July,  September  to  August, 
and  'Nature  the  dear  old  nurse'  led  this 
youngest  of  her  nurslings  through  the 
peaceful  hot  months,  unsuspicious  of  those 
that  were  to  follow. 

The  first  touch  of  autumn  saddened  our 
Tim  ;  the  waving  fields  of  golden  grain,  with 
their  wind-rippled  orange  shadows,  had  lent 
a  thrill  of  happiness  to  a  little  soul  alive  to  all 
such  influences,  and  now  that  the  meek,  stately 
ears  had  bowed  their  heads  to  the  sickle,  he 
missed  their  presence,  and  sorrowed  over  the 
stubble. 

This  month,  too,  the  guns  were  popping 
all  over  the  country-side,  and  Tim  hated  guns 
for  two  reasons — first,  because  they  startled 
the  quiet  of  his  usual  rambles,  giving  a  sense 
of  insecurity  even  to  the  quietest  fields  ;  and 


1 6  TIM 


CHAP.  I 


secondly,  because  each  report  that  made  the 
child  jump  and  tremble,  meant  the  death  or 
wounding  of  a  bird  ;  and  that  was  keen  grief 
to  him. 


CHAPTER    II 

.  .  .  and  the  sweet  smell  of  the  fields 
Past,  and  the  sunshine  came  along  with  him. 

TENNYSON'S  Pelleas  and  Ettarre. 

ONE  day  a  party  of  gentlemen  set  out  from 
Darley  Court  to  shoot  partridges.  Old  Squire 
Darley  was  an  open-handed  man,  and  loved 
his  kind  well  enough  to  be  glad  to  fill  his 
house  with  them  two  or  three  times  a  year ; 
but  better  than  all  else  in  the  world  did 
he  love  his  grandson  Carol,  and  Carol  was 
worth  loving.  A  brighter,  truer,  more  boyish 
boy  than  Carol  Darley  did  not  exist  in  all 
England  ;  he  was  straight  as  a  little  dart, 
had  never  had  a  day's  illness  in  his  life,  and 
was  blessed,  in  addition  to  an  excellent 
temper  and  tearing  spirits,  with  a  frame 

c 


1 8  TIM  CHAP. 

slight  as  yet,  but  well  knit  and  vigorous,  a 
broad  frank  face,  a  joyous  mouth,  a  bright 
colour,  a  shock  of  golden  curls,  and  two  such 
honest  kindly  blue  eyes,  that  you  might  draw 
gladness  from  them  like  water  from  a  well. 
And  the  old  man  would  have  loved  him  had 
he  come  to  him  with  none  of  these  claims  for 
affection,  for  was  he  not  the  point  in  which 
all  his  hopes  and  cares  centred,  the  sole 
survivor  of  his  house,  the  child  of  his  dead 
son  ?  The  child  had  come  to  the  two  old 
people  like  a  message  straight  from  heaven, 
in  their  heaviest  grief.  The  first  reawaken 
ing  to  life  after  their  crushing  loss  was  the 
discovery  that  the  little  lips  had  been  taught 
to  call  the  old  place  'home.' 

Carol  was  thirteen  on  this  particular 
morning,  and  to-day,  in  fulfilment  of  a 
promise  of  long  standing,  his  grandfather 
had  promoted  him  from  trotting  about  after 
the  shooters,  as  he  had  hitherto  done,  to 
carrying  a  gun  of  his  own.  Earth  seemed 
to  have  nothing  more  to  offer  as  he  strutted 


ii  TIM  19 

along  in  the  clear  September  sunshine, 
bravely  brushing  last  night's  raindrops  from 
the  heavy  turnip-tops  with  his  sturdy  legs  ; 
already  he  foresaw  himself  the  best  shot  in 
the  county,  as  his  father  had  been  before  him. 
To  be  sure,  he  had  not  shot  anything  as  yet, 
and  the  little  gun  kicked  rather  and  hurt  his 
shoulder,  but  such  trifles  as  these  were  power 
less  to  dash  his  joy  ;  only  he  did  hope  he  should 
shoot  something  before  he  had  to  go  home. 

'That's  a  fine  boy  of  yours,  Darley,'  said 
one  of  the  gentlemen ;  *  he  steps  out  well. 
Shall  you  send  him  into  the  army  ?  ' 

The  Squire  swelled  with  honest  pride  as 
his  eye  fell  on  the  boy.  '  Well,  I  hardly 
know  yet,'  he  answered;  'it  seems  a  good 
soldier  wasted,  and  yet  I  have  always  set  my 
heart  on  his  making  a  figure  in  the  county- 
going  into  Parliament,  and  all  that ;  it  wouldn't 
be  the  first  time  a  member  had  come  from 
Darley.  I  used  to  hope  his  father — but 
there,  we  never  know  what  is  best  for  us,' 
added  the  old  man  hastily.  Mr.  Darley  felt 


20  TIM  CHAP. 

quite  sorry  that  he  could  not  bestow  Carol 
on  all  the  careers  open  to  him  ;  he  was  so 
eminently  qualified  to  adorn  whichever  might 
finally  be  selected  for  honour,  that  it  was 
difficult  to  make  a  wise  choice.  The  army 
was  a  gentlemanly  calling,  but  Mrs.  Darley 
would  not  hear  of  that  for  a  moment. 
1  Suppose  there  should  be  a  war,'  she  said. 
Sometimes  the  Squire  had  leanings  to 
wards  the  Woolsack,  or  if  Miss  Kate  sug 
gested  the  Church,  he  had  visions  of  Carol 
in  lawn  sleeves  crowning  sovereigns  and 
christening  royal  infants  ;  but  on  the  whole, 
though  with  a  sense  that  he  was  defrauding 
all  the  professions,  he  felt  that  the  important 
post  of  Squire  of  Darley  was  the  one  for 
which  his  treasure  was  pre-eminently  fitted  ; 
and  there  at  least  I  think  he  was  right. 
The  object  of  all  this  anxious  thought  was 
not  as  yet  gone  to  Eton,  which  was  to  be 
the  next  step  on  his  road  to  greatness,  where 
he  would  wear  a  round  jacket,  and  perhaps 
be  whipped  ;  but  if  the  road  we  look  along 


ii  TIM  21 

be  straight,  the  eye  does  not  accurately 
measure  the  distance. 

The  party  of  shooters  were  walking  along 
a  turnip-field  bordered  on  one  side  by  a 
hazel  coppice,  when  the  dogs  put  up  a 
covey  of  six  birds  a  little  in  front  of  them. 
Two  got  away,  two  fell,  and  the  remaining 
two  flew  for  the  coppice,  on  the  side  on 
which  Carol  was  walking. 

'  Now  then,  sir,'  cried  his  grandfather, 
( the  birds  are  waiting  for  you  ;  winged,  by 
Jove  !  no,  missed.  You  little  goose  !  Bless 
my  soul,  what  was  that  ?  ' 

'  That '  was  a  sort  of  cry  which  proceeded 
from  the  coppice  into  which  most  of  Carol's 
charge  had  gone,  and  quite  unlike  any  note 
of  partridge  or  other  bird.  The  boy's  bright 
colour  faded  from  his  cheeks,  and  he  put 
down  his  gun  as  though  by  impulse,  but  could 
not  move  ;  he  stood  wide-eyed,  staring  at  the 
tangle  of  slender  hazel  rods  from  which  the 
sound  had  come.  Some  of  the  party,  how 
ever,  knowing  that  these  accidents  were  not 


22  TIM  CHAP. 

of  a  fatal  kind,  parted  the  branches  and  dis 
closed  to  view  a  small  figure  habited  in  an 
old  holland  blouse,  stretched  among  the  sticks 
and  dry  leaves  which  strewed  the  ground. 
The  child  lay  quite  still,  and  on  nearer 
approach  proved  to  have  fainted.  Carol 
now  came  near,  steadying  himself  by  his 
grandfather's  kind  hand. 

'  Is  he  dead  ?'  he  asked  in  a  whisper,  all 
the  horror  of  having  killed  his  fellow-boy 
surging  over  his  bright  young  heart  like  a 
drowning  wave. 

'  Dead !  no,  no,  no,'  answered  the  Colonel 
good-naturedly  (he  who  had  asked  whether 
Carol  was  to  be  put  into  the  army)  ;  '  he's 
been  grazed,  nothing  more.  It's  the  fright 
that  made  the  poor  child  faint ;  any  doctor 
will  pick  out  the  shot  in  five  minutes,  and 
to-morrow  he'll  be  trotting  about  again.' 

Carol  said  nothing,  but  big  tears  of  thank 
fulness  swelled  up  in  his  bonnie  blue  eyes, 
and  the  Squire  felt  the  boy's  grasp  tighten  in 
his.  He  had  to  turn  away  himself  (tears  are 


ii  TIM  23 

so  infectious),  and  to  adopt  a  jovially  bustling 
manner,  as  he  asked  the  keeper  if  he  knew 
whose  child  this  was. 

'  If  you  please,  sir,'  said  the  man,  '  it's  the 
little  gentleman  as  lives  in  the  old  manor- 
house  along  of  the  old  lady.' 

'  Dear,  dear — dear,  dear !  take  him  home, 
some  one  ;  I  will  send  down  this  evening  and 
inquire.  Anything  that  is  wanted,  if  they  will 
only  let  us  know,  we  will  be  too  happy ; 
remember  to  say  that  ;  be  sure  you  say  we 
shall  be  so  glad  to  send  anything.' 

Here  a  grateful  pressure  from  the  little 
hand  in  his  caused  him  to  look  at  his  grand 
son.  The  boy  was  still  white,  and  the  old 
man  took  alarm  at  once.  '  Why,  Carol — boy, 
come  home,  come  home ;  it's  nothing,  sir  ; 
didn't  you  hear  what  the  Colonel  said  ?  All 
right  to-morrow,'  and  he  departed,  dragging 
his  unwilling  grandson  after  him,  unheeding 
his  entreaties  to  be  allowed  to  accompany 
those  of  the  party  who  undertook,  guided  by 
the  keeper,  to  convey  our  wounded  hero  to 


24  TIM  CHAP. 

the  experienced  care  of  Mrs.  Quitchett, " for 
whom,  now  that  he  was  come  to  himself,  he 
had  begun  in  a  feeble  way  to  ask. 

That  lady  considered  it  due  to  herself  to 
betray  no  emotion  in  the  presence  of  '  the 
gentlemen  '  further  than  a  violent  pull  at  a 
wandering  string  of  her  cap,  which  caused 
that  erection  to  assume  a  sidelong  position, 
and  imparted  to  her  a  certain  wildness  of 
appearance,  strangely  at  variance  with  the 
studied  impassiveness  of  her  bearing. 

There  was  something  distrustful,  even 
defiant,  in  her  manner,  thinly  disguised  under 
an  assumption  of  extreme  deference,  as  she 
1  thanked  them  for  the  trouble  they  had  been 
at,  and  sent  her  duty  to  Mr.  Darley  ;  but  they 
had  all  that  they  wanted,  she  thanked  him.' 
Then,  when  she  had  bowed  them  out,  paying 
but  scant  attention  to  expressions  of  interest 
and  concern,  she  bundled  off  the  garden-boy 
post-haste  for  the  doctor,  and  undressed  her 
charge  and  got  him  to  bed  with  wonderful 
celerity. 


it  TIM  25 

When  the  doctor  came  he  made  light  of 
her  anxiety,  assuring  her  the  boy  was  hardly 
scratched,  picked  out  the  shot,  at  which  Tim 
winced,  and  departed,  promising  to  look  in  in 
the  morning. 

After  the  tumult  comes  peace,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  long,  drowsy  afternoon,  when 
his  kind  nurse  brought  her  work  to  sit  by 
him,  Tim  narrated  the  events  of  the  morning 
in  his  own  fashion. 

'  You  know  I  hate  the  guns,'  he  began, 
'and  I'd  gone  up  by  the  hazel  coppice  above 
Beech  Farm,  because  I  thought  I  should  be 
out  of  the  way  of  them,  and  I  was  sitting  in 
there  ;  it's  one  of  my  houses,  you  know, — in 
the  dining-room  I  was.  We  were  having 
dinner — make-believe  dinner,  you  know — I 
and  the  squirrel — only  I  had  to  make-believe 
the  squirrel  too,  because  he  wouldn't  come 
near  enough — I  suppose  he  thought  I  should 
hurt  him,  but  he  needn't  have  thought  that, 
need  he  ?  Well,  just  then  I  heard  voices  in 
the  field  outside,  and  there  were  the  dogs 


26  TIM  CHAP. 

quite  close.  I  stayed  quiet,  for  I  thought 
they  would  go  by  ;  but  there  came  a  sound 
of  wings,  and  quick,  one  after  the  other,  two 
shots — bang,  bang,  and  I  jumped  up  to  run  ; 
but  there  were  shouts,  and  then  another  shot, 
and  I  felt  I  was  hit,  and  fell  down,  for  I 
thought  I  was  killed  ;  and  I  don't  remember 
much  more  till  I  got  back  here.' 

So  far  all  was  coherent  enough,  a  rare 
virtue  in  Tim's  account  of  events,  in  which, 
as  a  rule,  his  fancy  made  such  havoc  of  mere 
prose  facts,  that  it  was  hard  to  distinguish 
what  he  only  thought  had  happened  from 
what  had  actually  taken  place.  But  after  a 
minute  or  two  of  silence  he  added — 

'And,  nurse,  do  you  know,  I  think  there 
was  an  angel  there.' 

'  Lor'  bless  the  child  ! '  thought  Mrs.  Quit- 
chett ;  (  now  he's  off,  I  suppose.' 

'  It  was  in  the  part  I  don't  much  remember/ 
Tim  went  on  ;  'it  was  only  the  face.  I  didn't 
notice  it  at  the  time,  but  I  can  remember  it 
now  quite  plain.  It  had  golden  hair,  where 


ii  TIM  27 

the  sun  shone  on  it,  like  the  angels  in  my 
window  in  church,  and  big  blue  eyes.  I 
remember  it  now,  though  I  did  not  notice  it 
then,  which  is  odd,  nurse,  isn't  it  ? ' 

'  There,  there,'  said  Mrs.  Quitchett  hastily, 
'  that'll  do  ;  you've  talked  as  much  as  is  good 
for  you,  and  more  too  ;  maybe  you  did  see 
one.  Now  you  just  lie  quiet  and  go  to 
sleep.'  And  Tim  obeyed  and  went  to  sleep  ; 
and  in  the  evening  when  the  groom  from  the 
Court  came  '  to  enquire/  a  most  satisfactory 
account  of  his  condition  was  returned  to  the 
Darleys,  which  comforted  Carol  not  a  little. 

That  youth,  as  a  gentleman  who  went  out 
shooting  and  dined  late,  considered  himself 
as  formed,  and  spoke  of  the  infantile  brown 
holland  Tim  as  '  poor  child '  with  lofty  com 
passion.  Now  that  all  was  going  well,  he 
forgot  his  fright,  and  bragged  quite  grandly 
about  the  day's  sport  to  the  lady  next  him  at 
dinner.  '  Thirty  brace  and  a  few  rabbits  to 
six  guns  ;  not  a  bad  bag,  was  it,  for  a  half 
day?' 


28  TIM  CHAP. 

'And  how  much  of  it  did  you  shoot?' 
asked  his  neighbour  tartly,  who  was  too 
young  herself  to  tolerate  the  boy's  youthful 
boasting ;  damsels  of  eighteen  do  not  like  a 
spoilt  boy  about  the  house.  Carol  blushed  a 
fine  pink,  and  then  burst  out  laughing  at  his 
own  discomfiture. 

*  Don't  you  know,'  said  his  friend  the 
Colonel,  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  Miss, 
'  that  you  must  never  ask  a  man  that  ques 
tion  ?  You  ask  what  the  bag  was,  and  politely 
take  it  for  granted  that  each  of  us  contributed 
his  fair  share.  Our  friend  there,  who,  with  the 
modesty  of  all  truly  great  men,  blushes  at  the 
record  of  his  own  deeds,  can't  tell  you  in  my 
presence  how  he  had  to  cover  my  deficien 
cies  ;  besides,'  he  added,  with  a  knowing 
look  at  poor  Carol,  which  deepened  the  glow 
on  the  lad's  face,  '  bringing  down  a  very 
remarkable  head  of  large  game,  the  like  of 
which,  I  will  undertake  to  say,  is  not  in  any 
bag  in  the  county.' 

Carol,  you  may  be  sure,  sat  over  his  wine 


ii  TIM  29 

with  the  other  gentlemen,  feeling  that  that 
was  due  to  himself,  though  his  thoughts 
wandered  continually  to  some  mysterious 
telegraphic  tackle  in  one  of  the  trees  on 
the  lawn,  the  condition  of  which  he  was 
burning  to  inspect,  while  he  busied  himself 
with  collecting  various  provisions  from  the 
dishes  nearest  to  him,  to  be  conveyed,  by 
and  by,  to  a  squirrel,  his  prisoner  and 
dependant.  The  Squire  always  liked  to 
have  the  boy  near  himself,  and  used  to  say, 
1  We  are  all  the  better,  I  take  it,  for  having 
to  be  a  little  careful  what  we  say.5  The 
conversation  did  not  interest  the  lad  for  the 
most  part,  being  mainly  political  (for  Mr. 
Darley  was  a  keen  politician)  ;  but  presently 
his  attention  was  attracted  by  hearing  the 
Colonel  talking  of  the  event  of  the  morning. 

'  That  was  a  strange  little  mortal  that  got 
hurt  to-day,'  he  was  saying.  To  which  the 
Squire,  who  was  a  little  deaf,  answered 
promptly,  '  Ah  !  thank  you  ;  the  groom  came 
back  just  before  dinner.  The  doctor  says  it 


30  TIM  CHAP. 

was  nothing.  Going  on  as  well  as  possible, 
thank  God  ;  but  it  might  have  been  a  nasty 
thing.' 

'  I  am  glad  he's  all  right,  poor  child. 
Whose  child,  by  the  way,  did  you  say  he 
was  ?  Surely  not  the  old  cat's  in  the 
Egyptian  headgear.' 

1  Ah !  'pon  my  life,  it's  a  sad  story.  I 
remember  their  first  coming  down  here,  nine 
or  ten  years  ago  it  must  be.  They  took  the 
old  manor-house, — it  should  have  been  my 
poor  dear  Harry's,  but  his  wife  couldn't  bear 
the  place  ;  but  there,  she's  gone,  poor  woman, 
and  it's  all  over  now.  What  was  I  saying  ? 
Ah !  the  little  boy.  Yes.  Ebbesley  their 
name  was.  He  must  have  been  going  on 
for  forty ;  looked  older,  a  good  deal  older, 
than  his  wife ;  a  very  handsome  woman  I 
recollect.  He  had  made  money  in  India; 
men  get  on  young  there — bar,  civil  service, 
I  don't  know  what.  He's  gone  back  there 
now;  been  there  ever  since,  .  .  .'  and  here 
the  old  gentleman,  observing  Master  Carol's 


n  TIM  31 

blue  eyes  very  big  and  fixed  on  him,  mumbled 
something  to  his  friend  that  had  Latin  words 
in  it ;  Carol  heard  debetur  piieris,  but  did 
not  know  what  they  meant. 

'  And  the  child  you  saw  to-day  was  their 
son,'  the  Squire  went  on  ;  'he  was  born  soon 
after  they  came  here.' 

'  And  does  he  live  there  all  by  himself, 
with  that  old  woman  ?  ' 

'  I  believe  he  must.  The  old  woman 
must  be  his  nurse  ;  I  never  thought  of  him 
much  till  to-day.  Lord  knows  how  he's  got 
educated,  or  if  he  ever  has.  He  must  have 
had  a  dull  childhood  ;  perhaps  I  ought  to 
have  seen  after  him,  but  we  were  never  over 
intimate  with  the  parents.  My  wife  didn't 
take  to  Mrs.  Ebbesley  from  the  first:  you 
see  our  Kate  was  a  young  girl  then,  and  we 
had  to  be  careful  for  her,  you  know.  But 
the  poor  little  boy  must  be  very  lonely. 
Will  you  have  some  more  wine  ?  No  ? 
Then  we'll  have  our  coffee  with  the  ladies.' 

'My    dear,'    said     Mrs.     Darley    to    her 


32  TIM  CHAP. 

husband,  as  he  came  in  last  of  the  black  coats 
from  the  dining-room,  '  didn't  you  say  that 
Carol  turned  quite  white  when  he  heard  that 
little  boy  scream  ? ' 

'  As  white  as  your  cap,  ma'am.' 
'There,'   said    Mrs.    Barley   triumphantly 
to  her  daughter,    '  and   the   doctor   has   told 
me  so  often   that   after  a  sudden  shock  any 
one  ought  always  to  take  a  little  dose.' 

Miss  Kate,  a  kind-hearted  but  stern  lady  of 
two-and-thirty,  who  loved  her  nephew  dearly, 
but  was  forced  to  act  as  a  sort  of  permanent 
drag  on  her  parents'  exuberant  affection, 
protested  vainly  that  the  boy  looked  as 
well  as  she  had  ever  seen  him.  When  he 
went  to  bed  his  grandmother  drew  him 
mysteriously  into  her  dressing-room,  and 
presented  him  with  a  small  round  globule,  and 
directions  for  use.  She  would  have  been 
less  pleased,  I  fear,  with  his  improved  appear 
ance  next  morning  had  she  seen  him,  on 
reaching  his  apartment,  pound  the  medicine 
up  fine,  and  cautiously  scatter  the  dust  out 


ii  TIM  33 

of  the  window,  where,  we  will  hope,  some 
dyspeptic  sparrow  was  benefited  by  it,  for 
no  one  else  ever  was.  It  is  a  sad  fact 
that  a  great  part  of  the  contents  of  the  good 
old  lady's  medicine-chest  was  disposed  of  in 
this  fashion. 

At  Carol's  age,  however,  a  good  night  will 
repair  most  nervous  shocks  without  artificial 
aids,  and  he  was  up  early  next  morning,  and 
down  in  the  garden  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over.  The  art  of  coaxing  was  an  open  book 
to  Carol,  and  he  attacked  the  old  Scotch 
gardener, — with  whom,  as  with  every  one 
else,  he  was  a  prime  favourite, — in  his  most 
fascinating  manner.  After  much  judiciously 
administered  sympathy  for  his  friend's  pet 
grievances,  '  Please,  I  want  a  bunch  of 
grapes,'  he  said  presently. 

1 1  mayna  let  ye  have  the  greeps,  Masterrr 
Carrel' 

1  Oh  but,  M 'Allan,  they're  not  for  me ;  they 
are  for  some  one  who  is  ill.  I  must  really 
have  a  bunch,  please.  I'm  sure  grandpapa 

D 


34  TIM  CHAP. 

wouldn't  mind, — and  some  leaves,  please,  to 
put  in  this  basket.' 

Of  course  he  had  his  way  in  the  end,  and 
set  off  with  his  booty  in  the  direction  of  the 
manor-house,  as  hard  as  his  legs  would 
carry  him.  Mrs.  Quitchett  saw  him  coming 
as  she  stood  in  the  doorway,  shading  her 
spectacles  with  her  hand,  looking  out  for  the 
doctor.  Did  she  forecast  in  her  mind  some 
part  of  what  should  follow  on  this  visit  ? 
She  was  certainly  far  from  guessing  the 
whole  of  it. 

Tim  had  passed  a  rather  restless  night, 
full  of  short  broken  dreams,  in  all  of  which, 
the  '  angel '  of  his  adventure  had  played  a 
prominent  part.  Now  that  he  was  up  and 
dressed,  he  still  felt  tired,  and  was  lying  on 
his  favourite  window- seat  looking  out  at  the 
already  changing  trees.  He  heard  the  door 
open  but  did  not  turn  his  head,  till  a  strange 
voice,  young  and  clear,  quite  unlike  the 
doctor's,  which  he  had  expected,  said,  with  a 
pretty  hesitation,  '  I  have  brought  you  some 


ii  TIM  35 

grapes  ;  I  hope  you  are  all  right  this  morn 
ing  ;!...'   and  there  stopped,  for  Tim  had 
started  up  and  was  sitting  staring,  with  his 
heart  in  his  eyes.     There  within  a  few  feet  of 
him  was  the  face  he  had  seen  in  his  dreams, 
the    face    of   his    'angel.'     It    seemed    quite 
natural   to  him  to  hold  out   his  arms  ;   God 
had  sent  his  angel   to  comfort   him.     Carol 
was  not  fond  of  kissing,  and  had  all  a  boy's 
horror  of  being  seen  to  perform  that  opera 
tion,  but  he  could  not  resist  the  mute  appeal 
of  those  outstretched  arms,  though  he  did  not 
know  what  prompted  it.      He  went  forward 
half  frank  and  half  embarrassed,  and  stooping 
down,    kissed    Tim's    poor    little   pale    face. 
Then   Mrs.    Quitchett  said,    '  Here's    young 
Master  Darley  has  brought  you  some  grapes/ 
and  Tim  bounced  back  to  earth  out  of  his 
dreamland,  and  was  taken  very  shy,  scarce 
finding  words  to  say  '  Thank  you.' 


CHAPTER    III 

...   for  Enoch  seem'd  to  them 
Uncertain  as  a  vision  or  a  dream, 
Faint  as  a  figure  seen  in  early  dawn 
Down  at  the  far  end  of  an  avenue, 
Going  we  know  not  where.   .   .   . 

TENNYSON'S  Enoch  Arden. 

CAROL  did  not  stay  long,  but  promised  to 
come  soon  again,  which  left  Tim  in  a  quiver 
of  excitement,  and  thinking  him  the  kindest, 
the  handsomest,  the  most  brilliant  person  he 
had  ever  seen.  It  is  odd  that  these  two  boys 
should  have  lived  so  near  one  another  so  long 
without  becoming  acquainted  ;  but  it  must  be 
remembered  that  Tim's  life  had  been  one  of 
cloistral  seclusion.  If  he  had  been  dimly 
conscious  at  times  that  people  spoke  of  the 
Squire's  grandson,  he  had  paid  as  little 


CHAP,  in  TIM  37 

attention  to  that  as  to  other  things  that  they 
said.  Since  Darley  had  been  his  home,  Carol 
had  been  much  away  at  school,  and  in  his 
holidays,  had  noticed  Tim,  if  he  saw  him,  as 
he  noticed  any  other  child  about  the  village, 
without  attaching  any  particular  identity  to 
him,  for  it  is  fair  to  acknowledge  that  there 
was  nothing  remarkable  in  Tim's  appearance 
shrinking  into  the  hedge  with  his  burden  of 
wildflowers,  as  the  other  boy  flashed  by  on 
his  pony.  But  now  that  the  child  was  weak 
and  ill,  and,  above  all,  reduced  to  that  condition 
by  an  act  of  his,  all  Carol's  generous  young 
soul  was  stirred  in  his  behalf ;  and  the  bunch 
of  grapes  was  the  first  result  of  this  blind  in 
stinct  of  obligation  to  protect  and  cherish  the 
innocent  victim  of  his  bow  and  spear.  You 
may  fancy  if  the  old  people  at  the  Court  re 
joiced  over  this  touching  and  beautiful  action 
of  their  darling  when  they  came  to  hear  of  it. 
'  What  a  dear  good  boy  that  is,  upon  my 
soul ! '  said  the  Squire,  squeezing  his  old  wife's 
hand ;  and  she,  with  a  tear  in  her  eye,  answered, 


38  TIM  CHAP. 

'We've  great  cause  to  be  thankful,  Hugh! 
The  Lord  has  taken  away,  but  He's  given 
again ;  it's  like  having  Harry  back.'  And 
they  shook  their  kind  old  heads,  recall 
ing  other  instances  of  singular  goodness  in 
Carol,  and  traits  of  likeness  to  his  father. 
Harry  had  given  his  sixpence  to  the  blind 
beggar,  and  Carol  had  saved  up  his  pennies 
to  buy  a  crutch  for  the  lame  boy  at  the  shoe 
maker's.  Once  the  Squire  had  met  his 
grandson  assisting  a  certain  crone,  of  great 
age  and  most  forbidding  aspect,  to  carry  a 
load  of  faggots  she  had  been  collecting  in  the 
Court  woods  for  her  wretched  little  fire. 
This  goody  was,  I  regret  to  say,  a  most 
abandoned  old  woman,  and  a  sworn  enemy  of 
Mrs.  Darley  ;  refusing  point-blank  to  attend 
church,  and  strongly  suspected  of  foxlike 
visits  to  the  good  lady's  hen-roost.  More 
over,  the  Squire  was  very  particular  about  the 
sanctity  of  the  timber  in  his  woods.  But  on 
this  occasion  he  not  only  pardoned  the  tres 
passer,  but  gave  her  permission  to  boil  her 


in  TIM  39 

skinny  pot  over  his  sticks  for  the  future ; 
until  some  fresh  outrage  on  her  part  put  her 
once  more  without  the  pale  of  society.  So 
the  objects  of  Carol's  kindness  shone  with  a 
borrowed  light,  and  were  dear  to  his  relatives 
as  so  many  proofs  of  the  extraordinary 
amiability  of  the  lad's  disposition. 

Tim  became  an  object  of  great  interest  to 
the  Darleys  :  Miss  Kate  came  to  see  him, 
and  Mrs.  Darley,  bringing  jelly  and  other 
good  things,  such  as  soft  fussy  old  ladies  love 
to  take  to  sick  folk.  And  the  Squire  came 
himself,  saying  that  '  Upon  his  word,  Tim  was 
a  very  nice  little  fellow,  and  when  he  got 
better  must  come  to  see  them  at  the  Court/ 
a  prospect  that  alarmed  him  not  a  little.  And 
they  had  plenty  of  chances  of  visiting  the 
child,  for  Tim  was  ill  longer  than  could  have 
been  expected.  One  day,  when  the  doctor 
had  seen  him,  he  stopped  as  he  left  the  house 
and  said  to  .Mrs.  Quitchett,  'You  must  take 
care  of  this  little  man,  nurse ;  he  is  by  tem 
perament  an  excitable  child.  So  slight  a 


40  TIM  CHAP. 

scratch  as  he  got  would  have  had  no  effect  on 
most  boys,  but  the  shock  has  evidently  told 
on  him  ;  he  is  a  little  feverish  and  must  be 
kept  quiet.' 

Then  he  paused  a  little,  pulling  at  the 
clematis  round  the  porch,  as  though  weighing 
the  desirability  of  saying  more,  decided  to  do 
so,  and  added  with  just  a  shade  more  im- 
pressiveness  in  his  voice — 

'  Things  will  affect  him  more  than  other 
people  all  his  life  ;  what  would  be  nothing  to 
an  ordinary  person  might  kill  him.' 

Mrs.  Quitchett  sat  clown  on  a  seat  near, 
rather  hastily,  and  looked  hard  out,  up  the  path. 

'  You  don't  mean  to  say  he's  in  any  danger?' 
she  said. 

'  Danger,  clear,  dear,  no  !  Don't  run  away 
with  any  notion  of  that  sort.  The  child  has  a 
skin  scratch  that  is  half  healed  already  ;  that's 
all.  1  only  mean  that,  considering  how  very 
slightly  he's  hurt,  it's  odd  he  isn't  running 
about  again  as  well  as  ever.  The  boy  must 
have  an  odd  constitution.' 


in  TIM  41 

'  He  was  never  remarkably  strong,'  Mrs. 
Quitchett  answered,  with  a  touch  of  irony  ; 
'  the  wonder  was  that  we  reared  him.  Such  a 
baby  as  he  was !  you  didn't  know  if  you  had 
him  in  your  arms  or  not.  But  she  was  a 
good  nurser,  though  I  verily  believe  she'd 
have  had  a  wet-nurse  if  I  hadn't  shamed  her 
out  of  it.  She  said  the  babe  was  a  drag  on 
her ;  she  didn't  let  him  stay  so  long,  poor 
lamb.  He  owes  what  health  he's  got  to  you 
and  me,  sir,  under  Providence,  though  I  say  it 
that  should  not.'  Mrs.  Quitchett  was  not  a 
great  talker  as  a  rule,  certainly  no  gossip,  and 
probably  to  no  one  but  so  old  a  friend  as  the 
doctor  would  she  have  touched  on  the  subject 
of  Mrs.  Ebbesley's  shortcomings. 

'Well,  nurse,'  said  the  doctor  cheerfully, 
'  still  under  Providence,  we'll  have  him 
healthier  yet  before  we've  done  with  him  ; 
depend  on  it,  he'll  bury  many  stronger  people.' 

But  Mrs.  Quitchett  laid  by  the  doctor's 
words  in  her  heart.  'What  would  be 
nothing  to  an  ordinary  person  might  kill 


42  TIM  CHAP. 

him.'  The  sentence  made  a  place  for  itself 
deep  in  her  memory,  to  be  recalled  only  too 
well  years  after  it  was  spoken.  She  had  a 
great  regard  for  the  doctor, — he  was  one  of 
the  few  people  whose  opinion  she  respected, 
— and  she  whispered  to  herself  as  she  got 
Tim's  tea  ready,  '  He  tried  to  smooth  it 
away,  but  it's  better  to  face  things.  He 
means  what  he  says,  for  he's  a  man  of  sense, 
which  is  more  than  most.'  Some  relic  of 
her  anxiety  must  have  lingered  in  her  face 
when  she  carried  in  the  little  tray,  for  Tim 
said,  '  Why,  nurse,  how  grave  you  look ; 
what's  doctor  been  telling  you  ? '  but  broke 
off  to  add,  f  Please,  I  want  you  to  let  him 
stay  to  tea  with  me  ;  may  he  ? '  '  Him  '  was 
Carol,  who  was  there  again,  to  inquire  after 
Tim's  progress,  and  whom  that  youth  was 
still  very  shy  of  mentioning  by  name.  '  Carol 
came  nearly  every  day  now,  and  his  visits 
did  more  for  Tim  than  either  the  doctor's 
medicine  or  Mrs.  Barley's  jelly. 

'  Master  Darley  can  have  his  tea  with  you 


in  TIM  43 

and  welcome,  if  he  thinks  his  grandmamma 
would  not  object/  said  Mrs.  Quitchett,  glad, 
as  on  a  former  occasion,  to  escape  the  first  of 
Tim's  questions  by  answering  the  second, — 
glad  too  of  any  chance  to  make  the  boy  look 
so  happy. 

Carol  had  a  fine  appetite  and  ate  more 
than  his  host,  in  spite  of  the  dinner  that 
would  follow,  for  him,  by  and  by. 

'  Do  you  never  eat  more  than  that  ? '  he 
asked  in  wondering  pity. 

'  Oh  yes,  sometimes  I  eat  a  great  deal, 
when  I've  been  running  about,'  answered 
Tim. 

'  He  makes  a  hearty  tea  mostly,'  added 
Mrs.  Quitchett,  '  though  he  never  was  much 
of  a  boy  for  his  dinner.'  Tim  sighed  ;  he 
began  to  fear  he  was  not  '  much  of  a  boy ' 
for  anything.  He  had  never  thought  about 
himself  before,  but  Carol  seemed  to  present 
a  standard  by  which  to  measure  creation, 
and  he  felt  for  his  part  that  he  fell  far  short 
of  the  desired  point.  Carol's  next  question 


44  TIM  CHAP. 

was  not  calculated  to  reassure  him  ;  it  was 
one  boys  always  ask,  and  grown-up  men  too 
sometimes,  and  is  of  all  others  the  most 
difficult  to  answer — 

'  What  do  you  do  with  yourself  all  day  ? ' 

Now  Tim's  days  were  always  well  filled, 
but  on  a  sudden  it  seemed  to  him  that  none 
of  his  pursuits  were  worthy  of  mention,  so 
he  said  the  best  thing  he  could  under  the 
circumstances— 

'  I  don't  know ;  I  never  thought ;  some 
times  I  do  one  thing,  sometimes  another.' 

'  Do  you  read  much  ?  Ain't  you  dull  all 
by  yourself? ' 

'Oh  no,  I'm  never  dull.  I  like  reading; 
not  geography  and  that  sort  of  thing ;  I  hate 
that,  but  fairy  -  tales.  Do  you  read  the 
Arabian  Nights  ? ' 

'Yes,  I've  read  some.  I  like  Aladdin: 
what  a  clever  chap  he  was.  What  else  do 
you  do  ? ' 

'  Oh  !  I  get  flowers,  and  I  find  out  new 
walks,  and  make-believe  seeking  adventures, 


in  TIM  45 

and  I  tell  stories  to  Bess,'  says  Tim,  grown 
bolder. 

'  What,  the  dog  ?     What  a  rum  idea  ! ' 

Tim  felt  he  had  said  something  foolish. 
'  Do  you  care  for  flowers  ? '  he  said  hastily. 

'Yes,  I'm  very  fond  of  them;  Aunt  Kate 
is  teaching  me  botany.' 

'  I  don't  know  what  that  is,'  says  down 
right  Tim,  'but  I'm  glad  you  like  flowers. 
I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  care  for  them ; 
that  you'd  think  it  was  childish  or  something.' 

1  Not  I.  I  bet  I  could  beat  you  at  the 
names  of  wildflowers  ;  but  I  like  birds  better. 
Our  keeper  knows  birds  by  their  flight,  and  I 
do  some  of  Jem  now.  I've  got  a  cabinet 
of  eggs.  I'll  show  you  when  you  come  and 
see  me.'  Tim  was  grateful  and  interested. 

'  Oh  !  and  I  tell  you  what — you  shall  help 
me  with  my  telegraph  ;  I've  got  a  telegraph 
from  one  tree  to  another,  made  with  string 
and  a  basket ;  but  it's  no  fun  sending 
messages  to  oneself,  and  Aunt  Kate's  no 
good  at  climbing  trees.' 


46  TIM  CHAP. 

'  I'm  afraid  I  shouldn't  be  much.' 

'  Oh  yes  you  will ;  I'll  show  you  how,  and 
you  shall  have  the  easy  tree.  I'm  afraid  it's 
too  far,  or  we'd  have  a  telegraph  from  our 
house  to  this,  but  I  should  never  get  enough 
string.'  And  so  the  talk  would  go  on,  with, 
'Oh!  do  you  do  that?  so  do  I,'  and  'Oh! 
that's  just  what  I  always  think,' — delightful 
discoveries  of  unexpected  sympathies,  in 
spite  of  great  unlikeness  in  most  things, 
and  innocent  remarks  on  Tim's  part,  which 
made  Carol  shout  with  laughter,  and  then 
stop  and  explain  very  kindly  and  carefully 
why  he  was  amused,  as  he  saw  the  pained 
look  spring  into  his  friend's  face  at  his  mirth. 

'  Do  you  play  games  ? '  he  asked  once. 

'  I  don't  care  much  for  games,'  Tim 
answered  innocently,  'but  I  play  draughts 
sometimes  of  an  evening  with  Mrs.  Quit- 
chett.' 

'Oh!  I  didn't  mean  that  sort  of  game,' 
said  Carol  ;  '  I  meant  cricket  and  that  sort  of 
thing  ;  the  kind  of  games  we  play  at  school.' 


in  TIM  47 

1  No,'  Tim  owned  reluctantly  ;  '  you  see  I've 
had  no  one  to  play  with,  but  I  should  like  to 
learn,  if  you'll  teach  me.' 

'  Oh  yes,  I'll  teach  you  ;  of  course  you 
couldn't  have  learnt  with  no  one  to  play  with. 
Mrs.  Quitchett  doesn't  look  as  if  she'd  be 
much  good  at  bowling,'  and  then  both  boys 
laughed. 

'  By  the  way,'  Carol  asked,  after  a  little, 
'  how  comes  it  that  you  and  she  live  here  all 
alone  ?  She's  no  relation  of  yours,  is  she  ? ' 

1  No,  she's  my  nurse, — was,  you  know,  of 
course  I  mean.'  Tim  was  beginning  to  be 
dimly  conscious  that  as  Carol  had  no  nurse,  it 
was  not  the  right  thing.  '  But,'  he  added  with 
compunction  at  disowning  dear  Mrs.  Quitchett, 
'  I  love  her  as  if  she  was  my  mother.' 

'  And  is  your  mother  dead  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know ;  I  think  I  never  had  a 
mother.' 

'  Oh,  you  must  have  had  one.  I  suppose 
she's  dead;  mine  is — my  father  too';  and  a 
sweet  gravity  stole  over  the  bright  young  face. 


48  TIM  CHAP. 

'Poor  dear,'  said  Tim,  forgetting  in  his 
pity  for  his  friend  that  he  was  himself  far 
more  alone  in  the  world.  He  accepted 
Carol's  explanation  of  the  utter  absence  of 
his  mother  from  his  life,  supposing  him 
right  on  all  subjects.  '  She  must  have  died 
when  you  were  a  baby,  before  you  could 
remember  ;  they  do  sometimes,'  his  instructor 
had  said  ;  he  knew  so  much  more  than  Tim 
about  everything.  That  youth  believed 
in  him  firmly.  '  Carol  says  so,'  became  a 
formula  with  which  he  would  confront  Mrs. 
Quitchett  herself,  who  smiled  superior,  but 
left  him  his  comfortable  reliance. 

The  wisdom  of  Solomon  was  nothing  in 
Tim's  eyes  to  that  of  this  radiant  being,  who 
was  not  only  a  proficient  in  such  unknown  arts 
as  cricket,  but  actually  beat  him  on  his  own 
ground  of  wildflowers  and  fairy-tales,  having 
acquired  a  smattering  of  Greek  mythology 
endlessly  astonishing  and  delightful.  Had 
any  one  dared  to  deny  that  Carol  was  the 
born  prince  of  all  mankind,  I  don't  know 


in  TIM  49 

what  Tim  would  have  said  to  him.  He 
counted  the  hours  between  his  friend's  visits, 
brightened  visibly  when  he  came  into  the 
room,  seemed  to  lose  all  heart  when  he  left 
it,  and  watched  his  every  motion  with  looks 
of  jealous  love.  Carol,  on  his  side,  grew  to 
have  quite  a  protecting  kindness  for  the  pale 
child,  perhaps  not  sorry  to  show  off  a  little  to 
such  an  appreciative  audience  ;  finding  Tim 
too  not  an  unpleasant  novelty  and  variation 
from  the  companionlessness  of  the  Court. 

It  was  getting  on  towards  October  now, 
but  Tim  had  entirely  forgotten  the  approach 
ing  advent  of  his  father,  so  completely  did  Carol 
engross  all  his  thoughts,  until  one  day  Carol 
himself  was  the  means  of  recalling  it  to  him. 

'  Where's  your  father  ? '  he  asked,  pausing 
in  an  attempt  to  reproduce  the  features  of 
Bess  on  a  small  lump  of  wax  used  by  Mrs. 
Quitchett  for  waxing  her  thread,  with  the 
aid  of  that  lady's  best  scissors. 

'He's  in  India, 'answered  Tim, mechanically 
giving  the  reply  always  given  to  him  ;  and 

E 


50  TIM  CHAP. 

then  remembering  suddenly  his  father's  letter, 
'At  least,'  he  added,  '  I  believe  he's  coming 
home  soon.  I  must  ask  Mrs.  Quitchett 
when  he's  coming.' 

'  What !  don't  you  know  ?  Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  ?  Shan't  you  be  glad  to  see  him  ? ' 
persists  inquisitive  Carol. 

*  I  don't  think  I  care  much  :  don't  believe  I 
ever  did  see  him.' 

'  And  how  do  you  know  he's  coming  ? ' 

'  I  forget :  dreamed  it,  I  fancy ;  or  else 
Mrs.  Quitchett  had  it  in  a  letter.' 

'  That's  more  likely,  /  should  think,'  said 
Carol,  laughing ;  and  so  the  matter  dropped, 
Mrs.  Quitchett  not  being  at  hand  for  refer 
ence  as  to  date.  And  that  was  the  only 
occasion  on  which  Mr.  Ebbesley's  name  was 
mentioned  between  the  two  boys.  The  circles 
widened  round  it  in  Tim's  memory  like  those 
round  a  pebble  in  a  stream  till  they  merged 
by  degrees  into  the  even  flow  of  his  new 
friendship. 

Mrs.   Quitchett,  on  the  contrary,  who  had 


in  TIM  51 

not  made  a  new  friend  these  twenty  years, 
had  wondered  several  times  that  she  re 
ceived  no  second  letter  from  her  employer  ; 
wondered  too,  not  without  misgiving,  what 
he  would  think  of  the  Court  intimacy,  but  felt 
it  was  none  of  her  doing,  so  put  it  aside  among 
the  things  to  be  accepted,  not  curable,  even  if 
harmful,  by  any  amount  of  speculation. 

One  day — the  i6th  of  September  I  think 
it  was — a  heavy  gray  day,  dull  and  cheerless, 
when  out  of  doors  felt  like  a  stuffy  room,  and 
Mrs.  Ouitchett  said  there  was  thunder  in 
the  air,  Tim  was  restless  and  uncomfortable. 
In  vain  his  nurse  had  tried  to  interest  him  in 
his  accustomed  pursuits.  Pari-banou  could 
do  nothing  for  him  ;  he  had  grown  tired  of 
drawing  princes  and  princesses  with  strange 
sausage -shaped  bodies  and  long  elbowless 
arms  that  projected  before  and  behind  ;  and 
still  Carol  did  not  come.  The  days  were 
getting  shorter  now,  and  there  was  not  much 
of  the  afternoon  left. 

Ah !    there   he  comes  at    last.    The  gate 


52  TIM  CHAP. 

swings  creaking,  and  Carol,  hot  and  breath 
less,  stirs  the  air  in  the  dull  house  with  his 
lusty  cry  of  '  Tim,  where  are  you  ? '  '  Yes,  he 
knows  he  is  late ;  he's  very  sorry,  but  he  had 
much  to  do  ;  has  been,  among  other  things, 
to  get  some  blackberries,  and  has  brought 
them  to  Tim,' — not  quite  all,  perhaps,  to  judge 
from  certain  stains  on  the  fair  face,  unless  he 
picked  them  with  his  teeth,  but  still  a  goodly 
show  of  squashy  purple  berries  in  a  pocket- 
handkerchief ; — Tim  must  have  them  for  his 
tea  ;  yes,  that  will  be  delightful,  and  Carol 
will  stop  and  help  eat  them. 

'  I've  been  out  in  the  garden  to-day,'  Tim 
says  ;  '  the  Virginia  creeper  is  quite  red  in 
some  places,  and  there  is  hardly  a  rose  left.' 

'  The  time's  getting  on,  and  that  reminds 
me  I  had  something  to  ask  you  :  will  you 
take  care  of  my  squirrel  for  me  when  I  go 
away  ?  He  doesn't  want  much  looking  after, 
— only  nuts,  and  to  have  the  hay  changed  for 
his  bed  once  in  three  days.  Hulloa !  don't 
you  feel  well  ?  shall  I  call  Mrs.  Quitchett  ? ' 


in  TIM  53 

'No,  no,  I'm  all  right;  but  what  did  you 
say  ?  are  you  going  away  ? ' 

'  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  I  thought  you  knew  it ; 
I  must  have  told  you ;  every  one  else  knows 
it :  I'm  going  to  Eton  next  week  ;  didn't  I 
tell  you  ? ' 

'  No — you — didn't — tell — me,'  poor  Tim 
answered  very  slowly.  '  You  talked  about 
school,  but — but — I  don't  know — I  didn't 
think ;  I  thought  you'd  always  come  and 
see  me.' 

'Oh!  never  mind,  you  know,'  Carol  said, 
rather  disturbed  at  this  unexpected  effect  of 
his  announcement ;  '  you'll  get  on  all  right  ; 
and  then  I  shall  write,  and  the  holidays  '11 
come  in  no  time,  and  all  that.' 

The  consolation  was  vague,  but  effectual. 
After  all,  the  separation  would  not  be  eternal, 
and  there  would  be  the  squirrel.  Would 
Tim  take  care  of  him  ?  wouldn't  he  ?  How 
that  squirrel  got  over-fed  when  he  came  to 
live  at  the  manor-house ! 

Once  started  on  the  subject  of  going  to 


54  TIM  CHAP. 

Eton,  Carol  had  much  to  tell,  and  Tim  was 
a  wonderful  listener.  This  was  Carol's  first 
promotion  from  the  ranks  of  a  private  school, 
second  only  in  importance  to  that  of  having 
a  gun.  The  topic  lasted  through  tea,  and 
was  still  engrossing  them  when  they  were 
startled  by  the  sound  of  wheels,  which 
stopped  at  the  gate. 

'  What  can  it  be  ? '  said  Tim  ;  '  the  doctor's 
not  coming  to-day.'  Tim  was  lying  on  the 
sofa,  and  Carol  sitting  beside  him.  They 
heard  some  unwonted  commotion  in  the  hall, 
and  Mrs.  Quitchett's  voice  in  accents  of 
keenest  surprise. 

Carol  jumped  up  and  was  for  going  to 
see  what  had  happened  ;  but  he  had  not 
long  to  wait,  for  the  next  moment  the  door 
opened,  and  he  found  himself  struggling 
fiercely  in  the  arms  of  a  tall  yellow -faced 
gentleman,  with  grizzled  hair  and  whiskers, 
who  was  straining  him  passionately  to  his 
heart. 

1  Let   me  go ;    what   are  you  doing  ? '   he 


in  TIM  55 

called  out,  kicking  frantically ;  and  Tim, 
supposing  some  damage  was  intended  to  his 
idol,  set  up  a  feeble  wail,  It  was  at  this 
moment  that  Mrs.  Quitchett  entered,  and 
called  out — 

'  Law,  Mr.  Ebbesley,  sir,  that's  young 
Master  Darley  from  the  Court  you've  got 
hold  of.'  Then  pointing  to  the  sofa,  where 
Tim  lay  crying,  whiter  and  thinner  even 
than  usual,  she  added,  'That  one's  your  son.' 


CHAPTER    IV 

This  child  is  not  mine  as  the  first  was, 

I  cannot  sing  it  to  rest : 
I  cannot  lift  it  up  fatherly 

And  bless  it  upon  my  breast. 

LOWELL'S  Changeling. 

WILLIAM  EBBESLEY  had  travelled  night  and 
day.  As  he  neared  the  child  that  was  all  he 
had  left  on  earth,  for  whose  sake  he  had 
lived  loveless  for  seven  years  of  incessant 
work,  his  impatience  for  his  reward  increased. 
He  outstripped  the  post,  writing  letters  but 
not  lingering  for  them  to  be  received. 
What  did  it  matter  whether  they  were 
prepared  for  him  on  this  day  or  that  ?  had 
not  they  been  waiting  for  him  for  months 
past?  He  had  meant  to  wander  through 
France  and  Italy  on  his  way  ;  to  visit  Rome, 


CHAP,  iv  TIM  57 

Venice,  Paris  ;  to  turn  aside  here  and  there, 
as  fancy  led  him.  The  thought  of  ease  and 
leisure  was  pleasant  to  the  weary  wayfarer 
on  life's  highway  ;  he,  whose  whole  time  had 
for  years  been  portioned  out  with  the  regu 
larity  and  monotony  of  clockwork,  found,  or 
expected  to  find,  a  luxury  in  caprice  and  idle 
ness.  But  the  thought  of  his  boy  drove 
all  others  from  his  head.  They  would  see 
Europe  together,  and  all  wonders  of  nature 
or  of  art  should  steal  a  fresh  charm  for  him, 
mirrored  in  the  delight  of  young  eyes.  His 
wanderings  would  be  far  more  pleasantly 
irregular,  dictated  by  the  wayward  fancy  of 
a  bright  impulsive  child,  than  by  his  own 
more  conventional  judgment. 

Mr.  Ebbesley's  expectations  of  his  son 
were  not  bounded  by  strict  reason  :  he  did  not 
reflect  that  the  child  had  never  even  heard 
of  most  of  the  countries  they  were  to  visit. 
His  life  had  not  favoured  much  exercise  of 
the  imagination,  and  all  he  possessed  of  that 
quality  had  flowed  for  seven  years  in  this 


58  TIM 


CHAP. 


one  direction.  It  was  art,  literature,  and  all 
to  him  ;  and  we  have  seen  how  widely  the 
conception  he  had  built  up  for  himself 
differed  from  the  reality.  The  child  of  his 
dreams  must  be  tall,  well-made  and  bright- 
coloured,  merry  and -healthy,  but  above  all 
he  must  be  full  to  overflowing  with  love  to 
match  the  love  he  was  bringing  him.  He 
knew  nothing  of  children,  and  drew  his 
conclusions  about  a  child  of  nine  from  the 
feelings  of  his  own  heart  at  fifty,  never 
doubting  that  on  the  boy's  side  the  meeting 
had  been  as  eagerly  looked  for  as  on  his. 
He  had  never  learnt  that  to  a  child  a 
mere  name  such  as  '  Father '  cannot  endear 
a  person  he  has  never  seen.  Those  he  is 
with,  from  whom  he  receives  kindness,  how 
ever  slight,  may  count  upon  his  warmest 
affection  ;  but  tell  him  he  must  love  one 
brought  to  him  for  the  first  time  because 
he  is  akin  to  him,  and  he  will  not  under 
stand  the  claim. 

The  drive  from  Granthurst  Station  in  the 


iv  TIM  59 

crawling  fly  had  seemed  endless  to  the  poor 
man.  Have  we  not  all  had  those  drives,  when 
we  felt  how  much  faster  we  could  go  on  foot, 
yet  knew  we  could  not?  He  had  walked  up  all 
the  hills,  in  hopes  that  the  wretched  asthmatic 
old  horse  would  gain  more  energy  for  going 
down  on  the  other  side.  And  at  last  he  was 
here — here  on  the  threshold  of  happiness, 
hardly  daring  to  turn  the  handle  of  the  door. 
When  he  entered  the  room  he  never 
doubted  for  an  instant  which  of  the  boys 
before  him  was  his  son ;  indeed  Carol, 
standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  was  an 
object  which  so  effectually  caught  the  eye, 
that  Tim,  lying  prone  upon  the  sofa,  in  the 
shadow  of  its  high  back,  was  scarcely  notice 
able.  He  did  not  stop  to  consider  that  Carol 
was  some  four  years  older  than  his  son  could 
possibly  be  ;  it  was  quite  in  accordance  with 
his  views  that  the  boy  should  be  tall  for  his  age, 
and  in  all  other  respects  the  lad  before  him 
realised  so  completely  the  picture  of  his  child 
which  for  years  had  made  itself  in  his  heart. 


60  TIM  CHAP. 

Who  can  blame  him  for  the  sinking  he 
experienced  as,  following  the  outstretched 
arm  of  the  nurse,  his  eyes  rested  on  the  little 
figure  of  Tim  ?  He  put  down  the  offended 
Carol  without  a  word  of  apology,  and  stood 
looking  at  his  son  :  he  was  too  much  taken 
aback  to  make  any  demonstration.  His 
pent-up  feelings  had  expended  themselves 
in  the  passionate  clasp  of  Carol  to  his  breast. 
Had  he  found  Tim  alone,  those  feelings  must 
yet  have  found  vent,  and  would,  if  they  had 
not  counteracted  his  disappointment,  at  least 
have  softened  it :  his  fancy  would  have  been 
busy  to  make  excuses  to  itself  for  the  child 
which  was,  though  it  was  not,  the  original  of 
his  dream-child.  But  now  fate  had  shown 
him  the  perfect  realisation  of  his  hopes  and 
wishes,  only  to  pluck  it  away  and  substitute 
this  changeling  in  its  place. 

As  for  poor  Tim,  he  was  dimly  conscious 
that  something  was  wrong.  This  tall,  gray- 
headed  stranger,  who  was  yet  his  father, 
frightened  him  ;  he  felt  the  disappointment 


iv  TIM  6  r 

in  those  sad  cold  eyes,  though  he  could  not 
understand  it.  For  hardly  more  than  a 
minute  the  father  and  son  looked  at  one 
another,  but  the  chill  of  that  minute  was  as 
a  barrier  between  them  through  all  their 
after-intercourse. 

At  length,  roused  by  some  gesture  or 
sound  of  Mrs.  Quitchett's  to  a  sense  of 
what  was  required  of  him,  William  Ebbesley 
stooped  and  kissed  Tim's  forehead,  and  then 
left  the  room  without  a  word.  It  was  neces 
sary  for  him  to  be  alone,  to  arrange  the 
crowding  thoughts  that  pressed  upon  his 
brain,  to  think,  to  determine — above  all,  to 
be  master  of  himself.  Half  an  hour  after 
wards,  when  Mrs.  Quitchett  went  to  seek 
him  in  the  room  to  which  he  had  gone — a 
little  chamber  by  the  front  door,  which  had 
been  his  study  in  the  old  days — she  found 
him  sitting  still  in  his  coat  as  he  had  come  in. 

'  I  came  to  see  if  you  wouldn't  take  some 
thing  to  eat,  sir;  I'm  sorry  we  were  so 
unready  for  you,  but  if  you  wrote  I  never 


62  TIM  CHAP. 

got  it,  though  I  wondered  not  to  hear  from 
you  again.' 

He  raised  his  head,  and  answered  her 
almost  mechanically,  '  Oh  yes,  he  would 
have  something,  no  matter  what — whatever 
was  least  trouble.'  She  brought  him  the 
little  meal  she  had  arranged  for  him,  and 
stood  watching  him  as  he  ate  in  silence, 
with  the  air  of  one  doing  accustomed  things 
in  his  sleep.  Her  loving  old  heart  had  lent 
keenness  to  her  sight,  and  she  had  seen  at 
a  glance  how  things  stood ;  she  longed  to 
smooth  matters  a  little,  but  hardly  knew 
how  to  begin  ;  she  had  always  had  some  awe 
of  her  master,  which  time  and  distance  had 
not  diminished,  and  at  present  he  seemed  in 
no  mood  for  conversation.  Presently  she  took 
courage  and  spoke.  'You  mustn't  think,  sir, 
the  little  one  won't  be  very  glad  to  see  you, 
when  he  finds  himself  a  bit ;  the  poor  dear's  not 
himself;  he  had  an  accident  a  fortnight  or  so 
back,  and  he's  weak  and  nervous  yet.  Your 
coming  was  sudden  to  him,  poor  dear — 


iv  TIM  63 

He  interrupted  her  almost  angrily.  '  Who 
did  you  say  that  other  boy  was  ? ' 

'  'Tis  young  Master  Darley,  sir,  from  the 
Court ;  it  was  he  that  caused  your  son's 
accident  while  shooting,  and  he's  been  nearly 
every  day  since  to  sit  with  him.' 

'  He  mustn't  come  any  more.' 

Mrs.  Quitchett  was  horrified.  '  Your 
son '11  fret  to  death  without  him,'  she  said; 
'  he's  going  away  to  school  soon  ;  let  him 
come  till  then.' 

She  knew  what  had  passed  in  her  master's 
mind,  and  did  not  attempt  to  argue  with  him  ; 
only  she  begged  for  a  little  reprieve  for  her 
darling,  who  was  more  precious  in  her  eyes 
than  all  the  healthiest  children  in  England. 
Mr.  Ebbesley  considered  a  little  and  then 
answered,  *  Very  well ;  but  don't  let  me  see 
him.'  And  with  that  Mrs.  Quitchett  was 
fain  to  be  content. 

Tim  meanwhile  clung  to  Carol.  '  Don't 
leave  me,'  he  said,  again  and  again;  'he 
frightens  me,  that  man.  I  don't  care  if  he 


64  TIM  CHAP. 

is  my  father  ;  I  want  you,  and  only  you.  I 
don't  care  about  him '  ;  and  then  again, 
'  Promise  me  you  won't  leave  me,  Carol  ; 
always  be  my  friend.' 

Carol  promised  readily  enough — would 
have  promised  anything  just  then  to  get 
away.  He  did  not  like  emotional  display, 
and  he  was  very  angry  with  Mr.  Ebbesley. 
'  Was  that  old  man  mad  ? '  he  said  indignantly 
as  he  scudded  off  homewards.  But  his 
wrath  was  not  of  a  kind  upon  which  the 
sun  goes  down,  and  the  air  and  exercise  soon 
restored  him  to  his  usual  spirits.  A  little 
breeze  had  come  up  towards  sunset,  and  blew 
refreshingly  in  his  flushed  face.  '  How  hot 
that  room  was  ! ' 

And  here  for  a  time  we  must  part 
company  with  him.  With  the  evening 
wind  in  his  curls,  he  springs  out  of  our 
story,  and  is  lost  to  our  eyes  for  a  little. 
Two  days  later  he  went  to  Eton.  Tim 
heard  the  Court  dogcart  whirl  by  the  house, 
on  its  way  to  the  station.  Did  Carol  look 


tv  TIM  65 

round  ?  Was  that  his  hand  waving  ?  He 
could  not  quite  tell,  for  his  eyes  were  full  of 
childish  tears. 

Soon  after  this  Tim  was  about  again  as 
usual.  A  man  had  brought  the  squirrel  in 
his  cage,  with  a  message  of  farewell  from  its 
owner.  But  for  that,  life  seemed  much  the 
same  as  before.  Had  he  dreamed  all  this,  as 
he  lay  on  the  high-backed  sofa  ? 

At  first  even  thepresence  of  his  father  in  the 
house  made  but  little  difference  :  when  they 
met,  Tim  never  showed  to  advantage  ;  he  was 
frightened,  and  his  scared  manner  irritated 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  who  never  guessed  how  much 
character  he  had.  The  poor  man  had  no 
notion  how  to  talk  to  the  child.  He  patted 
him  stiffly  on  the  head,  and  asked  him  ques 
tions  that  he  could  not  answer.  He  was 
like  a  man  who,  meeting  another  in  some 
foreign  country,  wishes  to  hold  converse 
with  him,  but  does  not  know  in  what  language 
to  address  him.  If  the  boy  would  but  begin, 
he  thought, — would  seem  in  any  way  glad  to 

F 


66  TIM  CHAP. 

(  have  him  there,  or  claim  his  interest  in  his 
pursuits,  he  could  respond,  and  would.  He 
almost  wished  him  to  be  naughty ;  he  knew 
he  could  reprove  him,  and  that  at  least  would 
be  intercourse,  and  might  lead  to  something 
else ;  only  this  simple  shyness  and  silence 
he  was  powerless  to  attack.  On  one  point 
he  had  no  doubt.  The  life  his  son  was  lead 
ing  was  a  most  unprofitable  one,  and  a 
radical  change  must  be  made  in  it ;  he  called 
him  into  his  study  and  told  him  so.  Tim 
naturally  had  not  the  least  idea  of  what  he 
meant.  He  looked  very  uncomfortable,  and 
pulled  Bess's  ears. 

'Your  education/  his  father  went  on,  'has 
been  sadly  neglected ;  if  you  are  ever  to 
know  what  other  people  do,  it  is  time  you 
should  begin  to  learn  something.' 

Tim,  seeing  something  was  expected  of 
him,  whispered,  'Yes,  sir.' 

*  Don't  call  me  "  sir,"  '  said  Mr.  Ebbesley 
shortly  ;  '  it  sounds  common.  I  had  thought 
of  sending  you  to  school,  but  as  you  are 


iv  TIM  67 

very  backward,  and  your  nurse  tells  me  you 
are  not  strong,  I  have  decided  to  keep  you 
at  home  and  give  you  a  tutor  for  the  present. 
I  have  engaged  a  gentleman  who  will  come 
here  next  week.' 

Tim  gasped :  here  was  a  revolution. 
'  You  don't  mean  Mr.  Brown  ? '  he  asked. 
Mr.  Brown  was  the  village  schoolmaster. 

1  I  know  of  no  such  person  ;  that  is  not 
your  tutor's  name.' 

'  Oh  ! ' 

'  You  can  read,  I  suppose  ?  ' 

'Yes.' 

'  What  has  Mr.  Brown  taught  you  ?  I 
suppose  he  is  the  schoolmaster.' 

'  A  little  jography,  and  sums.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  hesitated  for  a  moment  as 
to  whether  it  was  not  his  duty  to  examine 
his  son  in  these  branches  of  knowledge,  but 
came  to  the  conclusion  it  was  not.  '  His 
tutor  will  do  all  that  when  he  comes,'  he 
thought.  'You  may  go  now,'  he  said  aloud. 
Tim  needed  no  urging,  but  was  out  of  the 


68  TIM  CHAP. 

room  at  once.  On  the  door-mat,  however,  he 
paused ;  something  perplexed  him  :  he  went 
through  a  fearful  struggle  with  himself,  then 
he  knocked  ;  he  was  actuated  by  a  strong 
desire  to  do  right,  and  give  satisfaction.  He 
heard  his  father  say  'Come  in,'  and  saw  the 
surprised  look  on  his  face  when  he  saw  who 
had  knocked.  Tim  stood  in  the  doorway. 

'  Well  ? '  said  Mr.  Ebbesley. 

1  If  you  please,'  said  Tim,  *  you  said  I  wasn't 
to  call  you  "  sir  "  ;  what  shall  I  call  you  ? ' 

'  Is  the  boy  half-witted?  Call  me  ?  Why, 
"  father,"  of  course  ;  what  else  would  you  call 
me  ? '  And  as  the  door  closed  again,  he  said 
to  himself  sadly,  '  Fancy  a  child  that  does  not 
know  what  to  call  his  own  father!  Is  this 
what  I  have  worked  and  waited  for  ? ' 

How  came  it  that  these  two,  having  each 
such  a  wealth  of  affection  to  bestow,  could  not 
spend  it  on  one  another  ?  On  the  father's 
side  it  seemed  to  congeal  in  his  heart ;  on  the 
son's  it  found  vent  in  a  passionate  devotion  to 
almost  the  only  being  capable  of  inspiring  it, 


iv  TIM  69 

who  had  crossed  his  lonely  little  path.  To 
the  birds,  to  Bess,  to  the  brook  in  the  woods  he 
unburthened  his  heart,  and  babbled  of  Carol. 
But  to  no  living  person  did  he  mention  his 
name,  insomuch  that  even  Mrs.  Quitchett 
thought  he  had  forgotten  him.  One  great 
treasure  he  possessed.  Not  long  after  his 
friend  had  gone  to  Eton,  the  Court  groom 
brought  a  letter  that  had  come  for  Tim  from 
Carol,  enclosed  in  one  to  Mrs.  Darley.  It 
was  written  in  a  big  schoolboy  hand,  and  told 
how  the  writer  was  well,  and  hoped  Tim  was, 
and  how  he  liked  Eton,  and  found  lots  of 
fellows  who  had  been  at  his  last  school ;  and 
some  day  he  hoped  Tim  would  come  there, 
when  he  was  a  big  fellow.  Tim  should  be 
his  fag.  He  fagged  for  Ward,  who  was 
captain  of  the  house.  He  liked  football, — that 
is  the  lower -boy  games,  for  in  the  house 
games  the  big  fellows  had  it  all  their  own 
way,  and  it  was  a  bore  never  touching  the 
ball ;  and  he  remained  Tim's  affectionate 
friend,  Carol  Darley.  And,  P.S.  he  hoped 


70  TIM  CHAP. 

Tim  would  be  careful  not  to  turn  the  cage 
round  when  the  squirrel  was  half  through  the 
hole  into  the  sleeping-place. 

Tim  was  ashamed  to  answer  this,  for 
though  love  of  story-books  had  early  induced 
him  to  master  reading,  his  writing  was  in  a 
painfully  rudimentary  state  ;  and  as  little  boys 
at  Eton  do  not  write,  as  a  rule,  for  pure  love 
of  the  thing,  the  letter  had  no  successors.  But 
it  supplied  Tim  with  a  motive  for  working 
with  the  new  tutor  in  a  way  that  astonished 
that  gentleman,  who  did  not  know  that  his 
object  was  to  fit  himself  for  Eton  before  such 
time  as  Carol  should  be  old  enough  to  leave. 

Tim's  tutor  does  not  require  any  minute 
description  at  our  hands ;  he  was  one  of 
those  extraordinary  men  who,  though  elegant 
scholars  and,  in  a  way,  profound  thinkers,  have 
yet  missed  the  rewards  obtained  by  men 
much  less  gifted  than  themselves,  and  are 
glad  of  such  hack-work  as  the  temporary 
education  of  the  Tims  of  this  world.  It  was 
a  relief  to  him  to  find  that  his  pupil  was  only 


iv  TIM  7 1 

backward,  not  incurably  dull,  as  were  most 
of  the  lads  into  whom  it  had  been  his  painful 
duty  to  hammer  the  rudiments  of  many  use 
less  branches  of  knowledge. 

Still,  although  he  took  a  genuine  interest 
in  his  charge,  which  Tim  repaid  by  a  grate 
ful  feeling  very  near  affection  and  wonderfully 
good  behaviour,  he  neither  had  nor  desired 
any  insight  into  the  child's  heart.  Some  men 
are  born  without  a  fondness  for  children,  just 
as  some  have  no  ear  for  music  ;  their  more 
favoured  brethren  look  down  on  them  with 
sublime  contempt,  but  it  is  absurd  to  blame 
either  one  or  the  other.  Altogether,  except 
as  the  means  of  enabling  him  to  prepare  for 
what  he  so  ardently  desired,  this  blameless, 
learned  fellow -creature  played  but  a  small 
part  in  the  life  of  our  hero.  That  life,  but 
for  this  new  element  of  education,  was  for  the 
present  much  unchanged.  After  the  installa 
tion  of  the  tutor,  Tim  saw  but  little  of  his 
father,  which  he  scarcely  regretted.  Mr. 
Ebbesley  was  often  away  for  weeks  at  a  time, 


72  TIAf  CHAP. 

being  interested  in  his  profession  and  watch 
ing  many  cases  carefully.  Gradually  he  began 
to  get  briefs  himself,  and  established  chambers 
in  London,  where  he  spent  most  of  his  time  ; 
his  tastes  were  not  countrified.  Mr.  Darley 
had  called  and  had  asked  him  to  dine  at  the 
Court,  but  the  talk  there  was  so  exclusively 
of  Carol,  of  his  letters,  his  beauty,  his  skill  in 
games,  and  thousand  virtues,  that  it  almost 
maddened  the  poor  man. 

'You  saw  our  boy  before  he  went  away,' 
the  Squire  said  ;  '  he  has  taken  quite  a  fancy 
for  your  little  fellow.  We  owe  Mr.  Ebbesley 
apologies,  my  dear,  for  that  unfortunate 
accident;  and  yet,'  he  added  graciously,  'we 
mustn't  call  it  unfortunate  if  it  makes  us  all 
better  acquainted.' 

'  Thank  you,'  answered  his  victim,  to  whom 
the  Squire's  milk  of  human  kindness  was  very 
sour  indeed  ;  '  I  daresay  your  grandson  was 
glad  to  find  a  young  companion.'  He  detected 
a  spice  of  pity  in  the  reference  to  Tim  which 
was  far  from  pleasing  him. 


IV 


TIM  73 


'  Oh  well,  you  know,'  said  grandpapa,  '  I 
think  he  felt  very  sorry  for  having  been  the 
innocent  cause  of  such  a  mishap ;  he  has  a  good 
heart,  that  boy,  and  is  as  tender  as  a  girl  for 
anything  in  pain,  though  he's  a  brave  boy  too. 
But  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  that  we 
must  send  to  inquire  the  same  afternoon.  He 
has  a  spice  of  Darley  obstinacy  in  him.' 

'  I  don't  think  you  can  call  it  obstinacy, 
dear,'  put  in  grandmamma  ;  '  I'm  sure  he's  not 
a  difficult  child  to  guide  if  you're  judicious 
with  him.  When  hewas  quite  a  little  tiny  thing 
I  always  said,  "  That's  a  child  that  can  be  ruled 
by  kindness  and  no  other  way,  for  he  has  a  high 
spirit."  I  recollect  when  he  first  went  to  the 
school  he  was  at,  before  Eton,  I  went  down 
there,  and  the  schoolmaster  said  to  me — I  for 
get  his  name.  Kate  dear,  do  you  remember 
his  name  ?  was  it  Watt  or  Watkin  ?  Watson, 
was  it?  Are  you  sure?  Well,  it  doesn't  matter 
—Mr.  Watson  said,  "  He's  not  a  bad  boy, 
Mrs.  Darley,  but  very  self-willed." — "  No,  Mr. 
Watkins,"  I  said,  "tJiere  you  must  allow  me  to 


74  TIM  CHAP. 

correct  you  ;  not  self-willed,  only  with  a  great 
deal  of  spirit,"  and  I'm  sure  I  was  right.  And 
your  poor  dear  little  boy  ?  I  hope  he's  quite 
well  again  ;  he  didn't  look  at  all  strong.' 

(  Yes,  he's  quite  strong  and  hearty  again, 
thank  you  ;  it  was  a  mere  nothing.' 

1  Oh,  I'm  glad  to  hear  it ;  to  me  he  looked 
delicate,  but  then  they  say  I'm  always  saying 
people  are  ill.  May  he  come  and  see  us 
sometimes  ?  but  perhaps  he'd  not  care  to,  now 
Carol  is  away  ;  the  house  is  dull  without  him.' 

'  You  are  very  good,  but  he  is  hard  at 
work  just  now,  and  I  am  afraid  I  must  ask 
you  to  excuse  him.  I  have  got  him  a  tutor, 
and  he  is  pursuing  a  more  regular  course  of 
life  than  has  been  possible  hitherto.  Will 
that  branch  line  the  railway  talk  of  making 
touch  your  property  in  any  way,  Mr.  Darley  ? ' 
plunging  wildly  away  from  the  subject.  It 
seemed  as  if  they  were  galling  him  on  purpose ; 
and  when  the  Squire  made  one  of  his  old- 
fashioned  courtly  speeches  to  the  effect  that 
'  if  the  more  exciting  sports  of  India  had  not 


iv  TIM  75 

rendered  their  homely  partridge  and  pheasant 
shooting  too  tame  for  him,  he  hoped  he  would 
bring  his  gun,'  etc.,  he  answered  bluntly  that 
he  had  given  up  shooting,  and  so  said  good 
night. 

'A  very  curt  person,'  said  Mrs.  Darley; 
'  I  am  sure,  if  only  in  common  gratitude  to 
that  dear  boy  for  all  his  goodness  to  little 
what's-his-name,  he  ought  to  be  more  civil. 
Fancy  a  little  thing  like  that  working  hard  ! 
I  only  hope  his  father  doesn't  beat  him.' 

And  so  gradually  the  intercourse  between 
the  two  houses  languished  considerably. 

The  morning  after  the  dinner  at  the  Court 
Mr.  Ebbesley  encountered  Tim,  his  lessons 
done,  flying  out  of  the  house  in  his  usual  hat- 
less  condition.  The  conversation  of  the 
Darleys  was  still  rankling,  and  his  tone  was 
not  gentle  as  he  said — 

'You've  forgotten  your  hat.' 

*  I  never  wear  one  except  on  Sunday,' 
answered  Tim  simply. 

'  Not  wear   a   hat  ! '  ejaculated  his  father. 


76  TIM  CHAP. 

'  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  ;  I  desire  you 
will  begin  at  once.' 

'  But  they  are  so  uncomfortable,'  said  poor 
Tim. 

'  I  think  really  it's  time  you  left  off  such 
childish  nonsense,'  answered  Mr.  Ebbesley, 
now  really  provoked.  '  Why  can't  you  do  as 
other  people  do  ?  Why  should  my  son  go 
tearing  about  like  a  butcher-boy  more  than 
other  people's  ?  It  was  evidently  high  time 
I  came  home.' 

Tim  gave  in  and  promised  compliance. 
Carol,  he  remembered,  wore  a  hat,  and  of 
course  he  would  have  to  when  he  went  to 
Eton,  but  it  was  pain  and  grief  to  him. 
Clearly  the  days  of  liberty  were  over  ;  hats  and 
the  Latin  grammar  were  beginning  to  plough 
on  Tim's  back  and  make  long  furrows.  Mean 
while  he  had  discovered,  Heaven  knows  how, 
the  date  when  the  Eton  holidays  should  begin, 
and  he  kept  strict  record  of  the  days  on  a 
scrap  of  paper,  scoring  off  one  each  night 
when  he  went  to  bed. 


iv  TIM  77 

At  last  came  the  long-looked-for  I4th  of 
December,  and  with  it  Carol ;  and  now  for  a 
time  Tim  was  really  happy.  All  the  time  he 
could  spare  from  his  lessons  was  spent  in 
trotting  about  after  his  friend  like  a  little  dog. 
Wherever  Carol  led  Tim  followed,  though 
his  soul  quaked  within  him  at  some  of  his 
own  exploits.  Only  when  Carol  rode  upon 
his  pony  Tim  could  not  accompany  him  ;  and 
later  in  the  holidays,  when  a  schoolfellow  of 
his  own  age  came  on  a  visit  to  the  elder  boy, 
he  grew,  boylike,  a  little  ashamed  of  the  con 
stant  companionship  of  such  a  child  as  Tim, 
which  the  latter  needed  no  hints  to  tell 
him.  But  in  spite  of  drawbacks — and  what 
in  this  world  is  perfect  ? — these  were  among 
the  happiest  weeks  in  our  hero's  life.  At  no 
later  time  did  he  have  again  such  unre 
strained  opportunities  of  worshipping  his 
idol. 

Mrs.  Quitchett  watched  all  this  with  an  ap 
prehensive  eye.  No  touch  of  jealousy  mingled 
in  her  pure  devoted  love  for  the  child  of  her 


7  8  TIM  CHAP. 

heart,  but  she  trembled  lest  some  blow  should 
lie  in  store  for  him,  that  should  strike  him 
through  this  new  affection  ;  she  did  not  forget, 
as  Tim  seemed  to  have  done,  that  first  even 
ing  of  Mr.  Ebbesley's  arrival.  At  each  of 
that  gentleman's  visits  from  London  she 
feared  some  renewal  of  the  talk  they  had  had 
on  that  occasion, — some  fresh  decree  of  banish 
ment  against  the  unconscious  intruder.  That 
his  company  should  be  unwelcome  to  any  one 
was  an  idea  that  circumstances  had  combined 
to  prevent  from  ever  entering  Carol's  head, 
but  he  did  not  like  Mr.  Ebbesley,  and  so 
timed  his  visits  mostly  when  he  was  not  at 
the  manor-house,  to  Mrs.  Ouitchett's  great 
relief;  and  whatever  Mr.  Ebbesley  may  have 
thought,  he  said  nothing,  and  the  holidays 
passed  over  without  mishap.  Golden  days  to 
Tim,  speeding  by  as  such  days  are  only  too 
apt  to  speed,  never  to  come  back  any  more. 
Indeed,  it  was  some  time  before  the  boys  met 
again. 

When  Easter  brought  Carol  back  toDarley, 


iv  TIM  79 

he  found  the  manor-house  shut  up ;  only 
Bess,  wandering  disconsolately,  came  and 
wagged  her  tail  at  sight  of  an  acquaintance. 
Mr.  Ebbesley  had  taken  his  son  for  that 
continental  tour  to  which  he  had  so  long 
looked  forward.  It  would  be  hard  to  say 
what  odd  quirk  in  the  man  made  him  cling 
to  this  part  of  his  old  dream,  now  that  so 
much  of  it  had  gone  astray  ;  perhaps  he  had 
a  sort  of  hope  that  change  of  air  and  scene 
might  develop  Tim  into  something  more 
like  what  he  had  imagined  him, — that  by 
adhering  rigidly  to  his  programme  some 
result  that  he  had  looked  for  might  follow 
even  yet. 

And,  indeed,  in  the  strange  new  world  to 
which  he  was  transported,  Tim  found  much 
to  excite  and  interest  him.  Mr.  Ebbesley 
was  better  pleased  with  him  than  he  had 
been  yet,  but  by  this  time  it  was  too  late  for 
him  to  overcome  the  feeling  of  constraint 
and  fear  he  always  felt  in  his  father's 
presence.  He  was  never  at  his  ease  with 


8o  TIM  CHAP. 

him.  And  then  he  was  such  a  child,  so  very 
young.  He  could  not  appreciate  half  he 
saw.  But  William  Ebbesley  did  not  under 
stand  all  that,  and  there  was  no  one  to  tell 
it  to  him. 

At  midsummer  it  was  Carol  who  was 
absent.  A  visit  to  a  friend's  house,  measles 
in  the  village — I  know  Tim  had  them  slightly 
about  that  time, — a  journey  to  Scotland  with 
his  grandparents,  and  the  six  weeks'  holiday 
was  gone  without  bringing  him  to  the  Court. 
It  was  a  year  before  Tim  saw  Carol  again. 
A  year,  which  is  so  little  to  older  people,  is 
a  very  long  time  at  Tim's  age  —  a  long 
time  for  a  little  boy  to  remain  fixed  in  his 
loyalty  to  an  idea.  But  Tim  remained  fixed 
for  that  year  and  for  others  that  followed, 
there  being  no  one  to  disturb  his  allegiance. 
Carol  was  his  almanac,  all  minor  events 
dating  from  the  periods  when  he  was  with 
him. 

How  eagerly  he  longed  for  the  day  which, 
by  taking  him  to  Eton,  should  put  an  end  to 


iv  TIM  8 1 

the  long  separations  ;  he  feared  nothing  that 
might  await  him  there,  for  he  would  be  near 
Carol  always  then,  and  what  more  could  he 
want  than  that  ? 


CHAPTER    V 

Oh  !  better  than  the  world  of  dress, 

And  pompous  dining-out ; 
Better  than  simpering  and  finesse, 

Is  all  this  stir  and  rout. — lonica. 

IT  was  a  proud  day  for  Tim  when  his  tutor 
announced  that  he  considered  him  sufficiently 
well  grounded  to  take  Fourth  Form  at  Eton. 
Tim  was  now  twelve  years  old,  and  had 
adopted  a  more  virile  costume  than  the 
holland  blouse  of  his  youth.  But  for  that 
and  his  little  learning,  he  was  quite  un 
changed  from  what  we  have  known  him. 
It  is  circumstances  and  events  that  make 
people  young  or  old,  not  the  years  that  pass 
over  their  heads.  Some  few  happy  people 
never  grow  up,  but  are  boys  and  girls  at  heart 


CHAP,  v  TIM  83 

all  their  lives.  Few  of  us  can  have  reached 
maturity  without  remembering  periods  when 
we  have  felt  very  old,  and  the  pleasant 
shock  of  getting  younger  again  ;  and  even 
in  the  oldest  people's  lives,  little  patches  of 
youth  blossom  out  now  and  then.  But  in 
boys  the  differences  are  even  more  marked. 
Some  are  little  men  from  the  time  they  can 
walk,  with  all  a  man's  self-reliance  and  self- 
conceit  ;  others  ripen  very  slowly ;  some 
hardly  at  all. 

Carol,  who  had  been  to  school,  and  lived 
among  older  people,  had  fancied  himself 
quite  grown  up  at  twelve.  He  dined  down 
stairs  and  went  out  shooting,  and  talked  of 
Tim,  as  I  have  said,  as  '  poor  child.'  But 
Tim  at  the  same  age  was  as  much  a  child 
as  he  had  been  at  nine  or  eight  or  seven. 
Any  one  less  fitted  to  be  put  down  suddenly 
in  all  the  stir  and  hubbub  and  seeming  heart- 
lessness  of  a  big  public  school,  it  would  be 
hard  to  find.  But  then  Tim  knew  nothing 
of  public  school  life ;  to  him  going  to  Eton 


84  TIM  CHAP. 

meant  only  reunion  with  Carol.  Mr. 
Ebbesley  was  astonished  at  the  boy's  eager 
ness  ;  he  knew  him  to  be  shy  and  rather 
nervous,  and  could  not  conceive  what  made 
him  desire  a  way  of  life  so  unlike  anything 
which  might  naturally  have  been  supposed  to 
be  congenial  to  him.  He  set  it  down  with 
characteristic  morbidness  partly  to  a  desire 
to  get  away  from  him  ;  but  on  the  whole  he 
was  pleased  at  the  wish,  as  manifesting  a  spirit 
more  like  other  boys  than  he  was  wont  to 
find  in  his  small  son.  Mr.  Darley  had 
recommended  his  grandson's  tutor  to  his 
neighbour  ;  so,  to  Tim's  great  joy,  he  found 
himself  one  bright  May  morning  actually  an 
Eton  boy,  and  an  inmate  of  the  same  house 
as  Carol. 

That  youth  was  sixteen  now,  and  in 
Middle  Division  ;  and  any  one  more  versed 
than  Tim  in  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  strange  world  into  which  he  had  been 
transported,  could  have  told  him  that  whatever 
hopes  he  might  cherish  of  companionship 


v  TIM  85 

were  doomed  to  disappointment.  Between 
a  white-tied  young  man  in  Carol's  position, 
and  a  little  scug  in  Fourth  Form  there  is 
a  great  gulf  fixed. 

That  first  day  at  school  seemed  intermin 
able  in  its  dreary  emptiness  to  the  new  boy. 
He  had  a  shadowy  feeling  that  something 
fearful  would  happen  if  he  were  a  minute 
late  for  the  time  at  which  he  was  told  to 
present  himself  in  school,  and  dared  settle 
to  no  employment,  for  fear  that  hour  should 
come,  and  pass  unheeded  ;  and  in  the  mean 
while  the  long  unemployed  interval  stretched 
away  dismally  before  him.  A  hundred  times 
he  pulled  out  the  new  silver  watch  his  father 
had  bought  for  him,  to  find  that  just  five 
minutes  had  elapsed  since  he  last  consulted 
it.  He  ventured  a  little  way  up  town,  and 
then  came  back  and  started  afresh,  but  the 
sense  of  his  costume,  so  new  to  him,  so 
familiar  to  the  passers-by,  made  him  feel  as 
if  every  eye  must  be  upon  him,  and  he  again 
sought  refuge  in  his  bare  little  chamber.  He 


86  TIM  CHAP. 

felt  so  terribly  alone  and  uncared-for.  He 
heard  voices  and  hurrying  steps  in  the  echo 
ing  wooden  passages,  and  then  a  silence 
succeeded,  which  filled  him  with  terror  lest 
some  school  was  going  on  which  he  ought  to 
be  attending.  He  crept  along  the  passage 
and  peeped  into  one  or  two  open  doors ; 
there  were  boots  lying  about,  and  little  heaps 
of  clothes  :  the  boys  had  gone  to  their  games 
and  a  noontide  stillness  reigned  through  the 
big  house.  Down  in  the  yard  under  his 
window  the  shoeblack  was  singing  a  cheer 
ful  vulgar  song  as  he  cleaned  the  knives, 
sometimes  interrupted  by  calling  to  a  brother 
menial,  invisible  in  the  inner  regions  of 
pantry,  scraps  of  light  badinage  or  local 
gossip.  Tim  would  have  liked  to  descend 
and  chat  with  them, — anything  to  break  the 
sense  of  being  dead  and  forgotten  that 
weighed  upon  his  soul. 

Only  the  little  boys  were  back  as  yet. 
Carol  was  coming  that  evening,  Tim  told  him 
self,  and  then  he  would  lose  this  strange 


v  TIM  87 

feeling  of  isolation  ;  he  had  a  vague  notion 
that  Carol  would  devote  at  least  the  first  day 
to  taking  him  about  and  showing  him  the 
place.  '  It's  a  pity  we  couldn't  have  come  back 
together,'  he  thought ;  but  Carol  had  explained 
to  him  that  it  was  unheard-of  for  any  boy  to 
return  before  his  proper  time.  The  weary 
day  wore  itself  out  at  last,  but  still  Carol  had 
not  arrived.  Supper-time,  prayer-time,  bed 
time,  so  the  boys'  maid  announced  to  Tim  who 
was  sitting  up,  though  it  was  hard  work  to  keep 
the  heavy  eyelids  from  closing.  '  What,  not  in 
bed  yet,  sir  ?  why,  it's  past  ten.  I  must  take 
your  light  in  another  five  minutes.  Now  make 
'aste  and  get  to  bed  ;  you're  as  sleepy  as  ever 
you  can  be ;  we  can't  'ave  you  little  ones 
sitting  up  like  this  ;  there's  trouble  enough  to 
get  the  lights  from  the  big  gentlemen  without 
that.'  Subsequent  angry  altercations  in  the 
passage  proved  to  Tim  the  truth  of  the  good 
lady's  assertion.  He  obeyed,  not  having 
courage  to  question  the  mandate  of  this 
peremptory  person,  but  it  was  sorely  against 


88  TIM  CHAP. 

his  will.  Carol  would  think  it  so  unkind  of 
him,  he  was  afraid,  not  to  have  sat  up  for 
him.  But  perhaps  he  would  come  to  see  him, 
just  to  say  he  had  come,  and  good-night. 
So  he  forced  himself  to  keep  awake  ;  he  knew 
there  was  a  train  in  about  half-past  ten,  and 
it  was  almost  that  before  his  light  was  taken. 
Between  sleeping  and  waking  he  was  con 
scious  of  the  sound  of  wheels,  of  voices  and 
laughter  under  his  window,  then  luggage  was 
dragged  with  many  thumps  along  the  passage. 
Tim  was  wide  awake  again  now,  listening 
with  all  ears.  Three  or  four  boys  just  come 
were  going  to  their  rooms,  full  of  talk,  loth 
to  separate,  having  many  things  to  say. 
Suddenly, — yes,  that  was  Carol's  voice,  talking 
eagerly,  questioning,  answering,  laughing. 
Tim  sat  up  ready  to  call  out  that  he  was 
awake,  though  the  room  was  dark,  the 
moment  the  door  opened  ;  he  never  doubted 
it  woiild  open.  The  talkers  seemed  to 
pause  just  outside  his  room.  '  I  swear 
you've  got  fat ;  hasn't  he  ? '  '  What  have  you 


v  TIM  89 

been  doing  with  yourself?'  Then  a  shout. 
'  Why,  if  it  isn't  the  hyena  !  Come  to  my 
arms,  hyena  ;  how's  your  old  self  ?  Oh!  I  say, 
come  to  my  room  ;  I've  got  something  to  show 
you,  if  I  can  find  it.  Never  mind,  Martha  ; 
it's  the  first  night,  you  know,  and  we  shan't 
be  long.'  Then  the  voices,  still  talking, 
turned  the  corner  and  grew  fainter  as  the 
boys  retreated.  Tim  sat  up  in  the  dark,  still 
waiting,  still  hoping.  The  house  wasn't  quiet 
yet ;  little  bursts  of  merriment  reached  him 
yet  occasionally,  and  Martha's  voice  raised 
in  bitter  expostulation.  Then  more  steps, 
renewed  hope,  fresh  disappointment,  and 
silence  and  blackness  once  more.  I  am 
much  afraid  that  amid  the  renewing  of  so 
many  interrupted  interests,  and  meeting  of 
so  many  former  friends,  Carol  had  forgotten 
the  existence  of  his  little  new  schoolfellow. 
He  remembered  him  next  morning  though, 
and  went  in  search  of  him. 

*  Hulloa,  well,   here  you  are,'  he  said  not 
unkindly,  but  with  some  embarrassment,  after 


9°  TIM  CHAP. 

he  had  shaken  hands,  and  while  he  wandered 
round  the  little  room  examining  everything 
minutely,  as  a  cover  for  his  want  of  conver 
sation.  '  I  suppose  you'll  soon  shake  in,  you 
know,  and  make  friends.  Come  to  me  if  you 
want  to  know  anything,  and  if  any  one  bullies 
you — badly — just  you  let  me  know  ;  but  no  one 
will  :  this  isn't  the  sort  of  house.  Nothing  I 
can  do  for  you?'  The  .truth  was  he  was 
debating  uneasily  what  he  could  do  for  Tim. 
He  had  often  been  asked  to  '  look  after '  boys 
before,  with  whose  parents  he  had  some 
acquaintance,  and  in  such  cases  he  had  always 
asked  the  boy  to  breakfast,  and  having  been 
bored  for  half  an  hour,  considered  his  duty 
done,  and  thought  no  more  about  him.  But 
Tim  was  different ;  and  then  you  couldn't  ask 
a  lower  boy  in  your  own  house  to  breakfast, 
especially  if  he  was  going  to  be  your  fag  by 
and  by. 

So  that  Tim  rather  weighed  on  Carol's 
soul  with  a  sense  of  ill-defined  responsibility. 
He  wondered  whether  he  oughtn't  to  explain 


v  TIM  91 

things  to  him,  but  didn't  know  how  to  begin  ; 
he  felt  it  would  be  absurd  to  preach  him  a 
sort  of  little  sermon. 

'  I  suppose  you  know  pretty  well  about 
things,'  he  said  vaguely,  with  a  rather  doubt 
ful  glance. 

'Yes,  I  think  so,  thank  you,  Carol.' 

'  Oh !  and  I  say,  you  know,'  the  elder  lad 
rejoined  carelessly/ '  you  won't  think  it  un 
kind,  you  know  ;  but  you'll  have  to  call  me 
Darley  here,  you  know  ;  of  course  it  won't 
make  any  difference  in  the  holidays  ;  but  it 
wouldn't  do,  don't  you  see.' 

Tim  promised  to  remember,  and  Carol 
departed  feeling  relieved,  after  a  parting 
injunction  not  to  'sock  away  all  his  money.' 

'What  is  one  to  do,'  he  asked  of  his  chief 
friend  and  crony  Villidge  minor,  as  they 
strolled  together  arm  in  arm  towards  chapel, 
'  with  a  small  boy  in  one's  own  house  that 
one  knows  at  home  ? ' 

'  If  it's  a  riddle  I  give  it  up  ;  if  not,  I  should 
say  kick  him,'  answered  Villidge  cheerfully. 


92  TIM  CHAP. 

'  No,  but  seriously,  you  know,'  persisted 
Carol,  anxious  to  do  his  duty. 

4  Why,  seriously,  what  can  you  do  ? 
Nothing.  Wholesome  neglect,  my  friend, 
is  the  one  valid  principle  of  education.' 

So  Carol  laughed  and  determined  to  act 
on  the  one  valid  principle,  the  advice  being 
thoroughly  in  accordance  with  his  own  views 
of  the  subject. 

'  That's  what  old  Blow-hard  (by  which 
name  he  designated  one  of  his  preceptors) 
would  call  the  great  "  Layssy  fair"  of  Poli 
tical  Economists/  he  said.  '  What  a  mercy 
we're  not  up  to  him  this  half!'  and  so  the 
talk  drifted  into  other  channels. 

Tim  saw  him  at  dinner  sitting  far  off  at 
another  table,  but  when  Carol  looked  round 
to  the  corner  where  the  new  boys  sat,  and 
nodded  encouragingly,  the  attention  thus 
attracted  to  him  made  him  so  shy,  that 
he  almost  wished  he  had  remained  undistin 
guished.  When  the  meal  was  over,  and  he 
was  retreating  once  more,  he  found  himself 


v  TIM  93 

the  centre  of  an  unoccupied  and  inquisitive 
group  of  lower  boys,  who  were  giving  them 
selves  airs  in  the  passage,  in  the  temporary 
absence  of  their  social  superiors. 

1  Hulloa,  new  fellow,  what's  your  name  ? } 

1  Where  have  you  taken  ? ' 

*  Where  do  you  board  ? '  added  a  wag, 
affecting  ignorance  of  the  house  he  was  in. 

At  this  they  all  laughed,  and  some  one 
added — 

'  Do  you  know  Darley  at  home  ? ' 

'  Yes/ 

'  Happy  Darley.' 

'  Shut  up,  Carter  ;  you're  a  deal  too  clever  ; 
some  day  you'll  do  yourself  an  injury  if  you 
don't  look  out.' 

'  Come  and  look  at  the  papers,  Weston,' 
returned  Carter  hastily,  who  was  nervous 
when  Weston  began  to  chaff  him,  and  proud 
of  taking  an  interest  in  public  affairs  in 
advance  of  most  of  his  contemporaries. 
'  The  big  fellows  choke  up  the  library  all  day, 
and  look  thunder  if  a  lower  boy  comes  in.' 


94  TIM  CHAP. 

'They  are  very  welcome,'  said  Weston, 
who  liked  shocking  Carter.  *  I'm  not  going 
to  waste  a  precious  after-two  so  early  in  the 
half  when  I've  still  got  some  tin  ;  it  don't 
hold  out  long.  Besides,  the  Times  has  gone 
off;  it  used  to  be  full  of  assizes,  and  now  it's 
all  politics  and  that  sort  of  rot.' 

'  The  Police  News  is  Tommy's  favourite 
paper,  isn't  it, Tommy  ?  Never  mind,  sock  us 
an  ice  and  I'll  come  with  you,  and  Carter 
shall  do  politics  for  the  lot  of  us.' 

At  this  point  the  projects,  literary  and 
otherwise,  of  the  party  were  rudely  broken 
in  upon  by  the  unwelcome  sound  of  '  Lower 
boy-hoy-hoy,'  roared  lustily  from  the  landing 
above  in  a  fine  fresh  young  bass  before 
which  the  trebles  ceased  to  pipe,  and  six 
little  pairs  of  legs  went  scampering  upstairs. 
Tim  hesitated  a  minute,  not  daring  to  ask 
whether  he  ought  to  go  too,  finally  decided 
he  had  better,  and  went  nervously  last. 

'  Here  the  last  shall  go.  Hulloa,  stop  a  bit; 
you're  new,  ain't  you  ?  You  needn't  come, 


v  TIM  95 

you  know,  for  your  first  fortnight  ;  when 
you've  been  here  longer  you  won't  be  in 
such  a  hurry  to  fag/  and  Tim  retired  very 
red,  among  the  titters  of  the  other  little 
wretches.  He  gave  a  start  as  on  entering 
his  room  he  perceived  Weston  apparently 
glued  to  the  wall  behind  the  door.  'Hush! 
hold  your  tongue,  Skinny,'  said  that  young 
gentleman  in  a  hoarse  whisper ;  then  having 
peeped  through  the  crack  of  the  door,  he 
added  in  his  usual  tones,  '  It's  all  right;  he's 
sent  Sawnders ;  rough  luck  on  the  beggar, 
but  he's  rather  a  scalliwag,  so  I  don't  care ; 
besides  he's  fat,  and  the  exercise  will  do  him 
good  ;  he'd  take  the  prize  over  you  any  day,' 
and  with  a  valedictory  punch  in  the  ribs  to 
his  host,  delivered  apparently  with  a  view  to 
ascertaining  the  amount  of  flesh  there,  and 
followed  by  an  elaborate  pantomime  of  having 
hurt  his  knuckles,  he  slid  down  the  banisters 
and  vanished. 

Thus    Ebbesley,    as    he    was    now    to    be 
called,   began   to   be   aware   of  the  fact   that 


96  TIM  CHAP. 

Eton,  besides  being  the  dwelling-place  of 
Carol,  contained  some  898  other  boys,  of  ages 
varying  from  his  own  to  twenty  years,  whose 
existence  he  had  in  his  day-dreams  completely 
ignored,  a  course  by  no  means  open  to  him 
when  brought  into  actual  contact  with  those 
young  gentlemen.  Not  that  any  one  meant 
to  be  particularly  unkind  to  him,  but  he  was 
such  a  forlorn-looking  little  creature,  his  high 
hat  was  so  big  for  him,  and  his  fingers  so 
inky,  that  it  seemed  somehow  natural  and 
handy  to  launch  a  casual  kick  or  slighting  re 
mark  at  him  in  passing, — greetings  bestowed 
almost  unconsciously,  and  which  would  never 
have  affected  a  more  robust  temperament, 
but  which  the  poor  child  took  as  indications 
of  a  deep-seated  ill-will  towards  him  on  the 
part  of  his  schoolfellows.  It  was  all  part  of 
the  tendency  to  take  things  hard,  predicted 
in  old  days  by  the  wise  old  doctor  at  Stoke 
Ashton.  He  felt  an  atmosphere  of  hostility, 
and  froze  under  it,  becoming  very  silent  and 
rather  sulky,  by  no  means  a  happy  course  for 


v  TIM  97 

conciliating  schoolboys.  Carol  with  frank 
boyish  manners,  good  looks,  an  inborn  knack 
of  games,  and  the  experience  of  a  private 
school,  had  soon  found  his  level,  and  having 
punched  the  head  of  Swamp  minor  for  calling 
him  'Miss  Darling'  on  account  of  his  fair 
skin,  had  established  a  footing  in  the  semi- 
barbarous  community,  to  which  only  the 
strong  can  attain  ;  whereas  Tim,  unused  to 
the  society  of  boys,  forbidden  by  the  doctor 
to  play  violent  games  on  account  of  his 
health,  too  weak  to  withstand  bullying,  yet 
too  simple-minded  to  lie  or  cringe,  the  natural 
weapons  of  the  otherwise  defenceless,  was 
like  a  person  who  had  been  long  kept  in  a 
dark  and  silent  room,  suddenly  exposed  in 
some  busy  thoroughfare  to  the  full  glare  of 
the  noonday  sun  ;  he  was  dazed  by  the  ful 
ness  of  life  that  surged  around  him.  That 
very  quality  which  seems  so  full  of  beauty 
to  sentimental  people  like  Mr.  Gray  (with 
whose  works,  containing  the  celebrated  ode 
to  Eton  College,  the  head-master  presents 

H 


98  TIM  CHAP. 

the  students  on  their  leaving),  and  which 
another  poet  of  our  own  day  has  described 
in  the  lines  at  the  head  of  this  chapter 
as  'all  this  stir  and  rout,'  was  sufficiently 
bewildering  to  our  little  country  boy  set 
suddenly  down  in  the  midst  of  it.  We 
who  look  back  on  school -life  through  the 
softening  haze  of  memory,  forget  that  the 
boys  so  perfectly  satisfactory  from  an  aesthetic 
point  of  view  have  ceased  to  have  the 
power  of  inflicting  pain  upon  us,  while 
they  possess  it  in  an  astonishing  degree 
in  the  case  of  their  schoolfellows.  Luckily 
for  our  hero,  active  corporeal  bullying  had 
gone  out  of  fashion  before  his  day,  but  small 
boys  possess  the  art  of  wounding  by  words 
and  looks  in  a  perfection  quite  unknown  to 
the  other  sex  in  any  stage  of  development, 
and  when  they  give  their  minds  to  it  can 
make  a  sensitive  companion's  life  as  thorough 
a  burthen  to  him  as  need  be  wished.  You, 
dear  lady,  who  read  this,  if  you  know  any 
little  boys  at  school  near  you  who  have  left 


v  TIM  99 

home  for  the  first  time,  ask  leave  for  the 
poor  little  souls  to  come  out  and  spend  the 
day  with  you.  Don't  stop  to  think  that  they 
will  find  it  dull,  that  you  are  not  used  to  boys 
and  shan't  know  how  to  amuse  them  ;  they 
won't  need  amusing.  It  will  be  happiness 
enough  to  get  away  from  school  and  into  a 
home  for  an  hour  or  two.  Take  the  little 
red  hands  in  your  delicate  palm  and  ask  kind 
questions  about  home  and  family  ;  you  will 
be  doing  a  really  charitable  thing,  and  will 
win  a  mother's  gratitude  when  the  next 
Sunday  letter  is  written ;  or  if  your  little 
visitor  have  no  mother,  Heaven  help  him, 
he  needs  all  your  goodness  ten  times  the 
more.  But  don't  ask  the  elder  boys  ;  they 
would  rather  play  cricket,  and  won't  say 
thank  you. 

If  Tim  shed  a  few  tears  in  his  turn-up  bed 
stead  sometimes,  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  no 
one  was  aware  of  the  fact  but  that  remark 
able  piece  of  furniture,  whose  venerable 
timbers  must  have  absorbed  too  much  of  that 


100  TIM  CHAP. 

form  of  moisture,  first  and  last,  to  have  looked 
on  it  as  a  novelty.  He  had  no  loving  mother, 
poor  soul,  to  whom  to  unburthen  his  grief  in 
long  incoherent  letters ;  he  would  not  un 
necessarily  distress  Mrs.  Quitchett,  and  of  his 
father  he  was  too  much  in  awe  to  dare  to 
complain  to  him  of  anything  at  Eton,  after 
his  eagerness  to  be  allowed  to  go  there.  To 
the  world  at  large — or  rather  at  small,  if  the 
coining  of  such  an  expression  is  permissible, 
for  his  public  was  a  very  limited  one — he  was 
simply  a  specimen  of  a  very  common  form  of 
scug,  whom  exclusion  from  the  citizenship  of 
games  had  degraded  into  a  helotry,  which 
translated  itself  to  the  outward  eye  principally 
by  ink  and  a  tendency  to  loaf  up  town  and 
look  into  shop -windows,  the  High  Street 
being  built  in  a  straight  line  with  the  College, 
and  to  walk  up  it  requiring  consequently  less 
active  volition  than  to  go  in  any  other  direc 
tion.  It  was  this  tendency  to  follow  his  nose, 
coupled  with  his  love  of  animals,  that  caused 
many  of  his  walks  to  end  in  the  back-yard  of 


r  TIM  101 

a  rather  dingy  little  shop  where  ferrets,  canary- 
birds,  rabbits,  and  such  small  game,  formed 
the  stock-in-trade  of  the  dirtiest  old  man  Tim 
had  ever  seen.  He  .was  one  day  watching 
the  attempts  of  six  little  birds  with  red  beaks 
to  attain  to  freedom  of  action  in  a  cage  where 
one  of  them  would  have  been  rather  cramped 
for  room,  when  the  proprietor  of  the  establish 
ment  invited  him  in. 

1  Wouldn't  yer  like  to  take  a  look  round 
the  premisses,  sir  ?  No  need  to  buy  nothing 
yer  don't  want.  Alway  glad  of  inspection. 
I've  some  remarkable  nice  young  rats,  if  they 
was  at  all  in  your  line,  and  a  beautiful  little 
terrier  bitch  I  should  like  to  show  yer  as  a 
pictur,  not  with  any  notion  of  selling.' 

So  Tim  took  a  look  round  the  '  premisses/ 
saw  the  baby  rats  like  little  lumps  of  raw  beef 
squeaking  round  their  sharp -nosed,  bright- 
eyed  parent,  the  wicked-looking  lithe  ferrets, 
the  ridiculous  fancy  pigeons,  the  stolidly 
munching  lop-eared  rabbits,  and  the  '  beautiful 
little  terrier  bitch/  a  shivering,  forlorn  little 


102  TIM  CHAP. 

mongrel,  who  was  howling  dismally  in  a 
superannuated  tub.  A  certain  air  of  mouldy 
dejection  seemed  common  to  all  the  denizens 
of  this  remarkable  yard,  in  marked  contrast 
to  the  shop,  where  a  dozen  canaries  were  all 
piping  and  shrilling  n't  to  burst  their  swollen 
little  yellow  throats.  Tim  bought  some 
rabbits,  no  doubt  at  considerably  more  than 
their  market  value,  but  which  were  cheap  to 
him  as  giving  him  an  interest  in  life,  and  a 
vested  right  to  visit  this  charming  emporium 
at  his  own  discretion.  The  owner  of  the 
establishment  made  a  handsome  income  out 
of  the  board  and  lodging  of  those  rabbits,  but 
a  really  enterprising  man  is  never  content 
when  on  the  track  of  a  good  thing,  and  his 
efforts  to  dispose  of  other  inmates  of  the  yard 
to  his  customer  on  similarly  advantageous 
terms  were  as  unflagging  as  they  were 
fruitless. 

'  Yer  see  this  'ere  ferret,  sir,'  he  would  say  ; 
'  he  is  a  beauty  now.  I  shall  sell  'im  to  young 
Lord  Ratisbane  as  boards  at  the  Rev. 's  ; 


v  TIM  103 

'is  lordship  '11  give  me  whatever  I  like  to  ask 
'im  for  sich  a  ferret  as  that,  once  he  gets  his 
eyes  on  'im,'  and  so  forth  ;  but  Tim  remained 
undazzled.  He  possessed  a  fund  of  quiet 
obstinacy,  and  he  did  not  like  ferrets  ;  fancy 
prices  given  by  youthful  members  of  the 
aristocracy  had  little  empire  over  his  imagina 
tion.  But  temptation  takes  many  forms,  and 
this  old  man  was  as  subtile  as  the  Scriptural 
serpent  in  his  adjustment  of  his  lures  to  the 
special  character  with  which  he  had  to  deal. 
Finding  Tim's  mind  not  set  in  the  direction 
of  sport,  he  plied  him  with  pets  of  a  more 
domestic  nature  ;  a  tortoise  of  the  most  fasci 
nating  ugliness  was  offered  him  on  terms 
which  he  was  assured  were  exceptionally 
advantageous. 

'  I  don't  want  to  over-persuade  yer,  sir,  I'm 
sure,  but  if  you  fancies  tortoises,  why  yer 
couldn't  'ave  a  nicer  one.' 

The  tortoise  which  the  old  man  balanced 
on  the  palm  of  one  extended  hand,  while  with 
the  other  he  thoughtfully  stroked  a  tame  rat 


104  TIM  CHAP. 

that  was  ascending  his  shoulder,  protruded  its 
cross  face  and  hissed  at  Tim  with  deadly 
malignity,  then  it  withdrew  permanently  into 
its  shell. 

'  I'm  sure  it's  a  very  nice  tortoise,  if  one 
happened  to  want  one,'  the  customer  said,  with 
his  usual  grave  politeness  ;  '  but  you  see  I 
have  the  rabbits  to  come  and  see  here,  and  I 
don't  think  the  tortoise  would  be  happy  in  my 
room— 

'  In  yer  room,  is  it  ? '  burst  in  the  dirty  old 
man;  '  if  you'd  'a  mentioned  it  sooner,  I'd  'a 
told  yer  as  I  'ad  the  very  thing  yer  wanted. 
If  it's  a  'ouse  pet  ye're  in  want  of,  what  can  be 
nicer  than  a  good  canary  ?' 

'It  wouldn't  do,'  said  Tim;  'some  big 
fellows  made  Biggies  get  rid  of  his  ;  they  said 
it  disturbed  them  when  they  wanted  to  do 
their  verses.' 

'  Why,  if  thai 's  all  ! '  cried  the  irrepressible, 
1  as  sure  as  my  name's  Skelton,  the  thing  for 
you  is  dormice  :  they  don't  sing  now,  do 
they?'  he  added,  with  engaging  humour; 


v  TIM  105 

'  they  won't  disturb  no  one's  verses  now,  they 
won't.' 

There  was  no  resisting  the  dormice.  As 
Mr.  Skelton  fished  the  little  balls  of  soft  fur 
out  of  the  hay  in  an  old  cigar -box,  barred 
across  the  top  with  some  bits  of  wire,  Tim's 
heart  went  out  to  them.  There  and  then  the 
bargain  was  completed,  and  Mr.  Skelton 
chuckled  as  he  jingled  the  coin  transferred  in 
the  transaction,  in  his  black  and  horny  palm. 

'That's  a  rum  little  lot,'  he  remarked  re 
flectively,  as  he  watched  the  little  figure 
balancing  the  big  hat  trotting  down  the  sunny 
street  with  its  new  possession.  '  Most  on 
'em,  they  comes  in  and  they  turns  the  place 
upside  down,  and  they  lets  out  the  rats,  and 
pokes  the  ferrets  ;  and  it's  "  Skelton,  what's 
this?"  and  "Skelton,  'ere,"  and  "Skelton, 
there,"  and  "Quick,  please,  I'm  in  a  'urry,"- 
they're  always  in  a  'urry.  But  this  one,  'e's  as 
sober  and  old-fashioned  as  a  little  judge,  and  'e 
argifies  and  explains,  and  'e  says  "  No,  thank 
you,"  and  he  pays  'is  money  too  :  ah  !  and  'e 


io6  TIM  CHAP. 

won't  go  on  tick  neither ;  'e  ain't  like  most 
on  'em.' 

The  subject  of  this  character-study  had 
meanwhile  been  visited  by  a  sudden  thought, 
which  he  was  inclined  to  regard  almost  as  an 
inspiration.  He  felt  with  painful  acuteness 
the  barrier  that  had  sprung  up  between  him 
self  and  Carol.  Their  relations  were  as 
different  from  what  he  had  hoped  as  they  well 
could  be.  The  most  elementary  knowledge 
of  school-life  would  have  shown  him  that  this 
was  inevitable.  But  knowledge  of  life,  school 
or  otherwise,  was  just  what  Tim  was  farthest 
from  possessing.  He  remembered  Carol's 
fondness  for  his  squirrel  and  for  all  animals  ; 
he  knew  that  they  could  not  be  companions 
and  friends  as  he  had  dreamed  that  they 
might,  but  surely  it  was  in  his  power  to  make 
Carol  think  of  him  sometimes.  He  thought 
over  his  plan  carefully  on  all  sides,  and  by 
the  time  he  reached  his  tutor's,  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  could  be  nothing 
against  it. 


v  TIM  107 

When  Carol  came  in  to  change  before 
dinner,  he  was  not  a  little  astonished  to  find 
on  his  table  a  little  cage  fitted  up  with  a  sort 
of  treadmill,  and  containing  two  dormice  fast 
asleep  in  a  handful  of  hay.  He  searched  in 
vain  for  any  superscription  that  might  explain 
this  eccentric  gift,  and  finally  came  to  the 
conclusion  it  must  be  a  joke  of  some  of  his 
friends.  Several  of  his  intimates  were  sum 
moned,  but  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  affair. 

1  It  must  be  that  brute  the  hyena,'  said 
Villidge  minor.  '  It's  just  the  sort  of  thing 
he'd  think  funny.' 

But  the  youth  known  to  his  associates  as 
the  hyena  because,  as  the  matron  expressed 
it,  he  was  'prone  to  risibility,'  protested,  on 
being  appealed  to,  that  he  was  as  innocent  as 
the  rest. 

'  If  Curly  has  an  unknown  admirer  whose 
tribute  takes  the  form  of  the  smaller  varieties 
of  mammalia,  I  don't  see  why  /  should  be 
held  responsible.' 

At    dinner    Barley's    mysterious    present 


io8  TIM  CHAP. 

was  the  great  topic  and  joke  of  the  top  table. 
Carol  bore  all  the  bantering  good-naturedly, 
but  after  a  good  deal  of  it  began  to  feel  a 
little  put  out.  To  be  the  object  of  a  joke 
was  a  new  position  to  him,  and  he  didn't  like 
it.  He  had  a  perfect  gathering  in  his  room 
after  two,  to  look  at  the  wretched  little 
animals,  slumbering  peacefully  through  all 
the  disturbance  they  were  creating.  It  being 
apparently  impossible  to  discover  who  had  put 
this  affront  upon  him,  the  next  question  was 
how  to  get  rid  of  the  creatures.  To  keep 
dormice  like  a  scug  of  a  lower  boy  was  of 
course  out  of  the  question. 

Meanwhile  no  echoes  of  the  mirth  in  the 
upper  circles  of  the  house  penetrated  as  far 
down  in  the  social  scale  as  Tim,  who  was 
serenely  pluming  himself  on  his  tact  and  dis 
cretion.  He  had  debated  at  first  what  would 
be  the  right  thing  to  write  with  this  present, 
and  had  at  last  solved  the  difficulty  by  deposit 
ing  the  offering  anonymously.  '  He  will  guess 
whom  they  are  from,'  he  thought;  'no  one  else 


v  77  M  109 

would  think  of  such  a  thing,  or  knows  how 
he  cares  for  animals  ;  he  will  say  something 
at  fagging-time.'  For  Carol  had  fulfilled  his 
promise  of  taking  Tim  for  his  fag,  explain 
ing  the  apparent  eccentricity  of  his  choice  to 
the  expostulating  Villidge  major,  who  was 
captain  of  the  house,  by  saying  that  he  '  knew 
him  at  home,'  and  that  fifteen  minutes  of 
bondage,  at  which  most  of  the  small  boys 
muttered  and  grumbled,  became  to  '  Ebbesley  ' 
the  happiest  time  of  the  day,  for  then  he  was 
sure  of  a  smile  and  a  kind  word,  and  each 
piece  of  toast  made  for  his  hero's  consump 
tion  became  a  labour  of  love  ;  he  scorched 
his  face  and  burnt  his  fingers  with  perfect 
equanimity,  and  thought  scorn  of  Biggies, 
whom  he  once  detected  doing  his  master's 
toast  at  the  gas.  On  this  particular  evening, 
however,  when  he  appeared  as  usual,  Carol 
seemed  preoccupied,  and  rather  sulky ;  he 
only  said,  '  Let's  see,  have  you  made  your 
three  bits,  and  the  tea  ?  All  right,  there's 
nothing  else  ;  you  can  go.' 


I  10  TIM  CHAP. 

Tim  made  some  excuse  to  loiter  a  minute 
or  two,  apparently  busy  at  the  cupboard,  and 
hazarded  a  furtive  glance  round  the  room  in 
search  of  his  present.  The  little  cage  was 
reposing  on  the  top  of  the  bed,  jammed  in 
between  a  big  Liddell  and  Scott  and  some 
fives  gloves,  where  it  had  been  stuck  by  the 
maid  when  she  cleared  the  table  for  tea. 
Just  then  Carol's  messmate  arrived,  accom 
panied  by  his  fag,  and  plunged  anew  into 
the  topic  of  the  day. 

'Well,  Curly;  found  out  who  sent  the 
dormice  ?' 

Carol  answered  with  what  was  for  him  to 
display  considerable  irritation,  '  I  wish  to 
goodness  I  could;  I'd  give  the  fellow  as 
good 'a  kicking  as  ever  he  had  in  his  life.' 

'Well,  I  can  dispose  of  'em  for  you  any 
way ;  here's  Weston  will  take  'em  off  your 
hands  and  ask  no  questions.'  And  giving  the 
cage  and  its  inmates  to  his  fag,  he  added, 
laughing,  '  There,  it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
no  one  good  ;  I'm  sure  you've  been  dying 


v  TIM  1 1 1 

for  some  dormice  all  the  half,  haven't  you, 
Weston  ?  and  I  know  you  never  keep  any 
money  after  the  first  week.' 

Tommy,  astonished  but  nothing  loth, 
carried  off  his  booty  grinning  ;  and  Tim,  who 
till  then  had  not  trusted  himself  to  look  round, 
got  out  of  the  room  as  best  he  could.  In 
the  passage  he  found  his  brother  fag  pausing 
to  examine  his  treasures. 

'  Hulloa,  Skinny  ! '  he  exclaimed,  as  Tim 
drew  near,  '  here's  a  queer  go  :  what  on  earth 
should  make  Darley  give  me  a  couple  of  dor 
mice  ?  I  went  in  expecting  to  get  pulled  for 
burning  the  toast,  and  see  what  I  get  instead 
of  a  pitching  into.' 

Tim  had  got  under  a  gas-lamp,  so  that 
his  face  was  black  and  invisible,  but  when 
he  tried  to  speak,  Tommy  looked  up 
suddenly. 

'  Why,  you're  blubbing,'  he  said;  '  what- 
ever's  the  matter  ? ' 

For  all  answer  Ebbesley  darted  into  his 
own  room,  which  was  not  far  distant,  whither, 


112  TIM  CHAP. 

with  mingled  curiosity  and  alarm,  the  other 
followed  him. 

'  What's  up  ?'  he  asked,  not  unsympathetic- 
ally  ;  and  Tim,  feeling  he  must  tell  some 
one,  sobbed  out — 

*  Oh  !  Weston,  it  was  me  who  got  the 
dormice,  and  I  thought  he'd  like  them  ;  you 
know  I  knew  him  at  home,  and  he  used  to 
have  a  squirrel ;  I  forgot  it  was  some  time 
ago — and — and — '  but  Tommy  had  collapsed 
into  the  one  chair  and  was  shaking  with 
laughter ;  the  exquisite  humour  of  the  whole 
affair  was  altogether  too  much  for  him. 

'  Oh,  don't,  please  don't ! '  cried  Tim,  to 
whom  the  matter  was  deadly  serious.  '  If 
Carol  should  hear,  he'd  be  angry  with  me ; 
you  heard  what  he  said,  and  I  meant  to 
please  him.' 

'  What  did  you  call  him  ? '  cried  Weston. 
'"Carol"!  What  a  name  !  Oh,  don't  I  just 
wish  I  was  a  little  bigger  or  he  a  little  lower 
down  ;  wouldn't  I  chaff  him.  We've  always 
wanted  to  know  his  name ;  most  fellows 


v  TIM  113 

thought  it  was  only  Charles  or  something,  but 
I  knew  it  was  something  outlandish,  because 
he  always  had  "C.  Darley"  on  his  letters,  and 
took  such  pains  never  to  let  it  out.' 

'Oh  dear!'  said  poor  Tim,  '  I  seem  to  be 
always  doing  the  wrong  thing ;  please  don't 
say  anything  about  it ;  he  wouldn't  like  it— 
and  I  couldn't  bear  him  to  be  angry  with  me.' 

*  What  a  baby  it  is,'  thought  Weston,  look 
ing  down  at  the  tear-stained  imploring  face 
before  him. 

'  But  you'll  keep  the  secret,'  urged  Tim 
despairingly  ;  '  never  tell  any  one  about  the 
dormice.' 

Something  in  his  utter  childishness 
touched  the  softer  side  of  Tommy's  callous 
little-boy's  heart. 

£  Yes,  I  promise,'  he  said  ;  and  he  kept  his 
word. 

'  I  say,  you  know/  he  said  next  day  to  Tim, 
meeting  him  in  one  of  the  passages,  '  I've 
been  thinking,  Skinny,  those  dormice  are  really 
yours,  you  know;  you  ought  to  have  them.' 


H4  TIM  CHAP,  v 

'  Oh  no,  no ! '  cried  poor  Skinny  vehe 
mently,  '  I  never  want  to  see  them  again  ;  and 
—and  —  thank  you  always  for  keeping  the 
secret.' 

So  Tommy  kept  both  the  secret  and  the 
dormice  until,  once  going  home  ill  for  a  week, 
and  leaving  no  directions  as  to  their  nourish 
ment,  he  found  on  his  return  that  one  of  them 
had  succumbed  to  this  prolonged  fast,  which 
so  distressed  him  that  he  made  over  the  cage 
and  the  survivor  to  a  friend. 

But  the  fates  were  busy  with  those  dormice. 
His  new  possessor,  thinking  that  a  little 
sunshine  would  be  good  for  the  shattered 
constitution  of  the  widower,  left  him  on  the 
window-sill  when  he  went  to  school,  and 
whether  it  was  the  wind,  the  boys'  maid,  or 
the  matron's  cat,  was  never  known  ;  but  on 
his  return  the  little  cage  lay  broken  in  the 
street,  and  the  last  of  his  race  was  embarked 
on  a  sleep  such  as  even  he  had  never  com 
passed  in  this  world. 


CHAPTER   VI 

How  far  too  sweet  for  school  he  seemed  to  me  ; 

How  ripe  for  combat  with  the  wits  of  men  ; 
How  childlike  in  his  manhood. — Ionicat  //. 

IT  must  not  be  supposed  that  life  was 
uniformly  dark  to  Tim  in  these  early  days  at 
Eton.  He  had  sources  of  happiness  quite 
distinct  from  his  glimpses  of  Carol,  which  had 
certainly  turned  out  less  satisfactory  than  his 
hopes.  After  the  dormice  episode  he  was 
shyer  and  more  constrained  in  the  presence 
of  his  fag- master  than  ever.  But  he  had 
found  and  always  kept  a  marvellously  kind 
understanding  and  tender  friend  in  his  tutor, 
whose  manly  gentle  soul  went  forth  to  this 
forlorn  little  specimen  of  suffering  humanity  ; 
he  readily  guessed  that  the  path  of  such  a 


ii6  TIM  CHAP. 

baby  could  not  but  be  thorny,  and  though  he 
was  necessarily  obliged,  for  many  reasons,  to 
ignore  much  of  what  he  knew,  and  the  whole 
of  what  he  suspected,  he  managed  in  a 
hundred  small  ways  to  soften  the  existence  of 
the  youngest  and  dreariest  of  his  pupils.  If 
I  do  not  say  much  of  Tim's  Eton  tutor,  and 
the  large  part  he  filled  in  his  history,  it  is 
because,  while  among  several  thousand  boys 
who  have  passed  through  the  school  in  the 
last  twenty  years,  to  describe  two  or  three  is 
fairly  safe,  it  were  quite  otherwise  to  draw 
anything  like  an  accurate  picture  of  one  of 
the  comparatively  few  men  who  have  filled  the 
post  of  tutor  there  during  the  same  period. 
So  I  may  only  note  in  passing  the  fact  of  his 
untiring  and  thoughtful  kindness,  and  the 
grateful  affection  it  elicited  in  return.  His 
study  was  a  haven  of  refuge  to  Tim  on  many 
a  rainy  after-four,  while  the  employment  said 
by  Dr.  Watts  to  be  provided  for  that  class 
of  member  was  busily  occupying  numerous 
pairs  of  idle  hands  in  other  parts  of  the 


vi  TIM  117 

house.  There  or  on  the  banks  of  the  kind 
old  river  in  the  shady  playing-fields  he 
spent  long  happy  hours  with  Scott  or 
Shakespeare  for  companion.  Mr.  Ebbesley 
was  liberal  in  the  matter  of  pocket-money, 
and  as  Tim's  tastes  were  not  as  a  rule  ex 
pensive,  he  was  able  to  revel  in  delightful 
books.  Had  his  examinations  been  in 
authors  of  his  own  selection  I  have  no 
doubt  he  would  have  attained  the  highest 
honours. 

Another  favourite  resort  of  his  was  the 
old  chapel  in  the  Castle  at  Windsor :  the 
grand  quiet  of  the  place,  with  its  dim,  coloured 
light  and  ghostly  armorial  flags  ranged  over 
head,  soothed  and  comforted  him  after  many 
a  bitter  childish  trial  ;  but  the  highest  pleasure 
came  from  the  pealing  organ  and  the  pure 
true  voices  of  one  of  the  best  of  English 
choirs.  To  Tim,  whose  soul  was  full  of 
melody,  but  whose  only  experience  of  sacred 
music  had  been  the  not  very  perfect  perform 
ances  in  the  village  church  at  home,  the 


ii8  TIM  CHAP. 

grand  outbursts  of  song  which  the  great 
musicians  had  given  from  their  hearts  to  the 
worship  of  God,  were  as  waters  in  the  desert. 
The  first  time  he  heard  the  beautiful  prayer 
that  Mendelssohn  has  wedded  to  immortal 
music,  the  yearning  for  doves'  wings  to  fly 
away  and  be  at  rest,  rendered  by  a  fresh 
boy's  voice,  the  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes, 
and  he  forgot  where  he  was,  standing  wrapped 
in  an  ecstasy,  his  soul  afloat  on  the  wings  of 
the  music.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  and 
this  other  boy  no  older  than  himself  were 
somehow  one,  that  the  pearly  notes  he  was 
listening  to  did  not  come  from  the  shiny 
emotionless  little  chorister  whose  mouth  was 
moving,  but  from  the  inmost  depths  of  his 
own  heart. 

Tim  could  not  really  sing  a  note,  though 
he  would  dearly  have  liked  to  ;  but  he  often 
had  this  feeling  afterwards,  in  the  following 
winter,  when  he  joined  the  musical  society 
and  used  to  sit  silent  and  happy  between 
two  deep-lunged  little  monsters,  and  have  all 


vi  TIM  .        119 

the  sensation  of  pouring  forth  his  being  in 
song.  Carol,  who  had  a  lusty  baritone,  and 
a  fondness  for  music  of  the  more  robust  and 
cheerful  order,  having  been  ordered  to  recruit 
trebles  at  his  tutor's,  and  finding  the  lower 
boys  for  the  most  part  unwilling  to  display 
their  accomplishments,  had  had  recourse  in 
despair  to  his  fag,  who  was  of  course  en 
chanted  with  the  prospect. 

'  I'm  afraid  I  shan't  be  much  use,  but  I 
should  like  to  come,'  he  said  modestly,  and 
come  he  did  with  exemplary  punctuality. 

His  relations  with  his  contemporaries  were 
still,  for  the  most  part,  lacking  in  cordiality. 
He  had  no  gift  of  making  himself  known  to 
them,  and  they  were  not  sufficiently  interested 
in  him  to  take  trouble  in  getting  to  know 
him.  The  discovery  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Michaelmas  half  that  he  was  forbidden  to 
play  football,  set  the  finishing  touch  to  the 
contempt  his  house-fellows  were  inclined  to 
entertain  for  him,  and  except  in  school  or  at 
the  musical  society  he  came  in  contact  with 


1 20  TIM  CHAP. 

no  boys  but  such  as  boarded  at  his  tutor's. 
There  was  one  youth,  however,  who,  contrary 
to  all  likelihood,  took  a  desultory  interest  in 
Tim,  and  that  was  Tommy  Weston.  The 
episode  of  the  dormice  had  disclosed  to 
Tommy  certain  things  about  Tim  that  lay 
outside  the  range  of  his  daily  observation  of 
life  and  character,  and  being  of  an  inquiring 
turn  of  mind,  he  determined  to  frequent  this 
new  specimen  of  boy,  taking  at  first  a  purely 
analytic  and  microscopic  view  of  him,  with 
which,  as  the  weeks  went  by,  something  of  a 
kindlier  and  more  human  sentiment  began  to 
mingle.  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of 
Tommy  Weston  since,  but  in  those  days  he 
promised  to  be  a  very  remarkable  man.  He 
possessed  indomitable  tenacity  and  strength 
of  purpose,  coupled  with  a  mercurial  gaiety 
of  temperament,  endless  patience,  entire  dis 
regard  of  public  opinion,  immense  courage, 
a  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  and  a  com 
posure  and  self-possession  on  which  the  most 
trying  circumstances  were  powerless  to  pro- 


vi  TIM  121 

duce  any  effect.  To  Tim  he  was  a  most 
marvellous  outcome.  At  first  the  little  boy 
was  rather  alarmed  by  this  remarkable 
phenomenon,  though  humbly  grateful  for 
his  attentions,  but  by  degrees  he  came  to  be 
more  at  home  with  him,  and  Tommy  was  the 
only  person  to  whom  he  ever  confided  some 
part  of  his  feeling  for  Carol  ;  only  a  very 
little  and  in  moments  of  rare  expansion,  for 
Tommy  was  not  sentimental,  and  regarded 
subjective  conversation  as  more  or  less  profit 
less.  But  the  shy  revelations  of  character 
made  by  Tim  struck  him,  as  I  have  said,  as 
a  'queer  start,'  and  as  such  were  regarded 
by  him  with  a  wonder  which  that  youth  was 
glad  to  mistake  for  sympathy.  '  It  is  cer 
tainly  not  on  the  principle  of  Mary  and  the 
lamb,'  he  said  to  himself,  'that  Skinny's 
partiality  can  be  explained,  for  Barley  don't 
"love  the  lamb,  you  know."  Fancy  Skinny 
wandering  into  tutor's  upper  set  at  private, 
and  Villidge  and  all  of  'em  hollering  out  in 
pupil-room,  "  What  makes  the  lamb  love  Curly 


122  TIM  CHAP. 

so  ?"  '  and  he  was  so  tickled  by  the  weird- 
ness  of  this  notion  that  he  accosted  Tim  as 
'  lambkin  '  next  time  he  saw  him,  and  chuckled 
to  himself,  remarking  generally,  '  What  rot 
nursery  rhymes  were,'  in  a  manner  calculated 
to  mystify  that  simple-minded  young  person. 
Indeed,  he  was  in  such  high  good-humour 
that  he  invited  him  into  his  room,  an  apart 
ment  decorated  with  all  manner  of  ingenious 
inventions  from  designs  of  Tommy's  own  ; 
such  as  an  elaborate  apparatus  in  which  the 
poker  was  involved  for  shutting  the  window 
without  leaving  bed,  and  another  by  which 
water  was  discharged  on  any  assailant  who 
might  attempt  to  turn  the  sleeping  inhabitant 
up  in  that  piece  of  furniture.  This  last 
machine,  which  was  constructed  with  much 
ingenuity  out  of  a  bandbox,  a  broken  jug, 
seven  yards  of  twine,  the  leg  of  one  of  his 
chairs  (propped,  in  the  absence  of  its  limb,  on 
his  hat-box),  and  the  cover  of  his  Gradus, 
was  subsequently  destroyed  by  his  tutor, 
after  deluging  the  matron  (Tommy  swore 


vi  TIM  123 

accidentally),  who  was  coming  to  administer 
medicine  when  he  stayed  out  in  collection- 
week.  These  and  similar  treasures  were 
displayed  to  the  wondering  eyes  of  Skinny, 
as  well  as  a  cardboard  box  in  which  he  kept 
the  prime  fetishes  of  his  worship  ;  his  name, 
which  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  mention  was 
not  Tommy,  and  the  date  of  his  birth,  written 
very  neatly  in  his  own  blood,  a  sheet  of  broad 
rule  completely  covered  with  a  design  in 
concentric  and  intersecting  circles,  of  which 
the  object  did  not  distinctly  appear,  and 
another,  on  which  he  had  jotted  down  the 
numbers  of  all  the  cabs  he  had  ever  ridden 
in,  on  his  rare  visits  to  the  metropolis,  and 
reduced  the  added  result,  by  some  process 
inscrutable  by  the  unmathematical'  mind,  to 
pounds,  shillings,  and  pence. 

Now  it  happened  one  Sunday  in  the  Lent 
term  when  the  flats  around  Eton  were  swept 
by  a  relentless  east  wind,  that  Tommy  had 
agreed  with  a  kindred  soul  from  another 
house  to  go  with  him  to  the  Ditton  woods 


124  TIM  CHAP. 

and  gather  primroses  ;  not  that  the  '  primrose 
by  the  river's  brim '  was  anything  more  to 
either  of  them  than  the  yellow  primrose  it  was 
to  the  gentleman  in  the  poem,  but  it  lent  an 
object  to  their  walk,  and  a  delicious  flavour  of 
the  illegal  in  the  combined  facts  that  they 
would  trespass,  and  very  probably  be  late  for 
lock-up,  which  in  those  days,  when  chapel  was 
at  three,  closed  the  period  of  Sunday  afternoon 
leisure.  Whether  Tommy's  friend  was  de 
tected  talking  in  chapel  and  made  to  stay  at 
home  and  do  his  Sunday  questions,  or  merely 
turned  lazy  and  preferred  to  read  a  book  by 
the  fire,  I  have  no  means  of  deciding  with 
certainty ;  but  the  fact  remains  that  he  threw 
Tommy  over  when  it  was  too  late  to  make 
other  arrangements,  to  the  no  small  disgust  of 
Master  Weston,  who  was  not  fond  of  abandon 
ing  any  enterprise  he  had  once  formed.  In 
these  straits  he  bethought  him  of  Tim,  who 
was  quite  sure  to  have  no  engagement,  and 
went  in  search  of  him.  Tim  was  writing  his 
weekly  letter  to  his  father,  but  consented 


vi  TIM  125 

readily  to  accompany  him,  if  he  would  wait 
till  he  had  finished  ;  and  the  concluding  sen 
tences  were  rendered  even  more  laborious 
than  usual  to  the  scribe,  by  the  distracting 
behaviour  of  his  companion,  who  was  occupy 
ing  the  interval  with  a  sort  of  highland  fling, 
while  he  sang  to  a  well-known  Scottish  air, 
just  then  familiarised  to  Southern  ears  by  the 
base  uses  of  a  comic  song,  these  remarkable 
words— 

Oh,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem, 

Oh,  Jerusalem,  the  costermonger's  donkey. 

'  Oh !  please,  Tommy,  don't  make  that 
dreadful  noise,'  said  poor  Tim.  (  How  can  I 
get  done  ? ' 

'  Dreadful  noise,  indeed !  it's  a  Sabbath 
hymn,  you  profane  little  wretch,'  retorted  the 
irrepressible,  at  the  same  time  pulling  Tim's 
inky  pen  upwards  through  his  fingers,  to  teach 
him,  as  he  said,  proper  respect  to  his  elders. 

At  length  the  epistle  was  concluded,  and 
when  Tommy  had  stuck  the  stamps  on  wrong 
side  up  in  the  bottom  left-hand  corner  (which 


126  TIM  CHAP. 

called  forth  a  severe  little  lecture  on  slovenly 
ways  in  Tim's  next  letter  from  home)  they 
started  on  their  walk.  Through  the  College 
and  playing-fields  all  went  well,  but  once  in 
the  open  fields  beyond,  their  progress  was 
considerably  retarded  by  various  skirmishes 
with  the  class  magnificently  lumped  together 
by  the  boys,  in  their  sublime  innocent  snobbish 
ness,  as  'cads,'  and  including  the  sons  of  all 
tradesmen,  farmers,  and  the  labouring  classes 
generally,  who  happened  to  inhabit  the  neigh 
bourhood.  There  was  not  a  '  cad '  within 
miles  with  whom  Tommy  was  not  on  intimate 
terms  ;  he  knew  the  Christian  names,  pursuits, 
and  family  history  of  every  old  man  or  woman 
who  drove  into  Eton  for  purposes  of  trade 
and  barter,  the  commodities  in  which  they 
dealt,  and  the  days  when  they  might  be 
expected.  There  was  one  elderly  lady  whom 
he  addressed  as  Sarah,  and  to  whom  he 
invariably  offered  marriage,  regardless  of  the 
fact  that  she  was  a  matron  of  many  years' 
standing  ;  and  an  old  man  in  a  red  waistcoat, 


vi  TIM  127 

who  had  business  relations  with  some  one  in 
the  town,  would  hang  about  for  hours  watch 
ing  for  an  opportunity  to  slip  unnoticed  past 
the  window  from  which  this  awful  boy  had  a 
torrent  of  ever-varying  chaff  and  nicknames 
ready  to  pour  out  upon  him  on  all  occasions. 
With  the  rising  generation  of  cad-dom,  the 
lads  of  his  own  age  or  a  little  older,  his 
relations  were,  however,  by  no  means  so 
friendly.  He  had  fought  with  nearly  all,  and 
licked  most ;  and  on  the  few  Herculean  youths 
who  had  succeeded  in  forcing  him  to  beat 
a  retreat  his  vengeance  had  subsequently 
descended,  when  their  evil  stars  led  them  to 
pass  his  dwelling,  in  the  form  of  coals,  sugar, 
earth  from  his  flower-box,  or  the  inside  round 
of  paper  off  the  tops  of  raspberry  jam  ; 
sometimes  the  pot  itself,  if  nearly  empty  qf  its 
succulent  contents,  would  startle  the  echoes  of 
a  dark  night  as  it  crashed  to  ruin  against  the 
palings  of  the  opposite  house,  while  a  muttered 
curse  succeeded  the  jaunty  whistling  of  the 
passing  victim. 


128  TIM  CHAP. 

The  two  boys  were  crossing  a  ploughed 
field  where  the  ridges  on  which  they  stepped 
crumbled  beneath  their  feet,  dry  and  powdery 
under  the  March  wind,  when  they  encountered 
a  detachment  of  small  boys  of  the  class  de 
scribed  above,  headed  by  a  youth  a  few  years 
older  than  the  rest,  who  wore  his  hat  on  one 
side  in  a  raffish  manner,  calculated  to  provoke 
remark.  Tommy  inquired  politely  if  it  was 
stuck  on  with  glue,  or  how  otherwise  it 
retained  its  position. 

'Just  you  'old  your  row,  young  Weston,' 
retorted  the  insulted  party  ;  '  I  knows  you ' ; 
thus  implying  some  mysterious  secret  hold 
over  Tommy,  which  that  youth  was  hasty  to 
repudiate. 

'Take  care  not  to  come  too  close,'  he 
replied  with  studied  moderation,  '  or  I  may 
hurt  you.' 

'  What,  you  ?  You're  too  young  and  too 
small ;  'it  one  o'  your  own  size,'  said  the 
champion,  and  all  the  satellites  applauded. 

Tommy,  feeling  the  moment  for  decisive 


vi  TIM  129 

action  had  arrived,  made  a  threatening 
advance,  whereupon  the  small  fry  scattered 
and  fled ;  and  their  leader,  seeing  himself 
abandoned  by  his  myrmidons,  also  retired, 
but  in  good  order,  and  still  hurling  taunts, 
which  increased  in  bitterness  in  proportion  as 
the  chances  of  pursuit  seemed  to  grow  less. 
Tim,  I  need  not  say,  was  made  very  unhappy 
by  this  sort  of  encounter ;  and  what  with 
these  numerous  delays  and  the  fact  that  they 
had  started  late  for  their  walk,  the  brief 
afternoon  was  already  far  spent  when  they 
arrived  at  the  paling  they  must  climb  to  enter 
the  Park.  Tim  pulled  out  his  watch  and 
looked  at  it  doubtfully. 

'  We  haven't  more  than  time  to  get  home 
before  lock-up,'  he  said. 

'Well  ? '  inquired  Tommy,  who  was  already 
astride  upon  the  paling,  as  though  Tim  had 
started  some  question  entirely  foreign  to  the 
matter  in  hand. 

'If  we  go.  on,  we  shall  be  late,'  persisted 
Tim. 

K 


130  TIM  CHAP. 

1  Oh  !  is  that  all  ?'  said  Tommy,  who  had 
a  sublime  contempt  for  law  when  it  interfered 
in  any  way  with  what  he  proposed  to  himself 
to  do.  As  I  have  said,  the  primroses  were 
less  than  nothing  to  him,  but  having  started 
to  pick  primroses,  primroses  he  would  pick, 
and  a  lion  in  the  path  would  not  have  deterred 
him  for  a  moment.  Now  Tim  had,  on  the 
contrary,  profound  respect  for  law  and  order, 
and  if  he  unwittingly  transgressed  the  most 
formal  of  little  school-rules,  felt  unhappy  and 
criminal  for  days  afterwards. 

c  I  think  I  shall  go  back/  he  said  after  a 
pause. 

'  You  may  do  as  you  please/  said  his 
companion  ;  '/'m  going  to  get  primroses/  and 
therewith  he  slid  down  on  the  other  side  of 
the  paling  and  was  lost  to  view.  (  Are  you 
coming  ? '  he  shouted  back. 

Tim  still  stood  irresolute  :  he  was  alone. 
Tommy  having  vanished,  it  seemed  easier  to 
withstand  his  influence  than  when  under  that 
cold  eye  from  the  top  of  the  fence.  He  was 


vi  TIM  131 

cold  ;  he  did  not  want  to  be  out  late  ;  he  did 
not  want  to  get  a  pcena ;  above  all,  he  did 
not  want  to  shirk  fagging. 

'  I  shall  go  back,'  he  persisted,  and  he 
went. 

'Give  my  love  to  tutor,'  Tommy  called 
from  within,  '  and  tell  him  not  to  worry  about 
me ;  I  shall  most  likely  be  back  for  early 
school  to-morrow.' 

Tim  had  a  dreary  walk  homewards  ;  the 
wind,  which  had  before  been  with  them,  was 
now  in  his  face,  and  he  had  to  butt  at  it,  head 
down,  and  hands  deep  in  his  trouser-pockets. 
Discomforts  became  prominent  which  had 
before  only  made  a  scarcely  noticed  back 
ground  to  Tommy's  enlivening  conversation, 
and  the  somewhat  perilous  excitement  of  his 
passages  of  wit  with  the  passers-by.  Tim 
began  to  wonder  vaguely,  not  without  terror, 
whether  he  would  fall  into  any  of  the  wasps' 
nests  that  his  companion  had  so  successfully 
stirred  up  as  they  came  along.  Visions  of 
angry  cads,  still  smarting  with  a  sense  of 


132  TIM  CHAP. 

unavenged  insults,  flitted  through  his  uneasy 
mind,  and  caused  him  to  hug  the  hedgerows 
rather  than  launch  across  the  bare  fields, 
where  his  figure  would  be  a  more  conspicu 
ous  object.  He  tried  to  determine  on  a 
course  of  action  in  case  of  attack.  Tommy, 
he  had  observed,  advanced  boldly  in  such 
cases,  assumed  the  aggressive  attitude,  and 
the  assailants  fled ;  it  seemed  to  him  a  fresh 
proof  of  the  unsatisfactoriness  with  which 
matters  were  arranged  in  this  world,  that  the 
people  who  seemed  to  possess  the  knack  of 
coming  scot-free  out  of  awkward  situations 
were  precisely  those  to  whom  it  was  of  least 
importance  to  do  so.  Something  told  him 
that  it  would  be  in  vain  for  him  to  attempt 
the  same  line  as  Tommy  ;  some  irresolution 
or  faltering  at  the  last  minute  would  be  sure 
to  betray  him,  and  his  assumed  boldness 
would  only  make  his  position  the  less 
pleasant.  The  conviction  was  forced  in 
upon  him  that  to  make  your  antagonist 
unwilling  to  fight,  you  must  be  genuinely 


vi  TIM  133 

anxious  to  do  so.  'And  in  that  case,' 
reasoned  he,  '  there  would  be  no  pleasure,  but 
the  reverse,  in  seeing  the  other  fellow  sheer 
off.'  All  of  which  seemed  to  him  mysterious 
and  unkind.  '  It  would  surely  have  been  as 
easy  to  settle  human  nature  on  a  plan  that 
should  enable  each  individual  to  obtain  what 
he  wanted.'  Nor  were  his  apprehensions 
altogether  groundless. 

As  he  passed  along  one  of  the  leafless 
hedges  a  hard  object  whizzed  by  him,  and 
rattled  on  the  frozen  turf  beside  him  ;  there 
was  little  or  no  doubt  it  was  a  stone. 
Through  the  hedge,  which  was  thick  and 
tangled,  though  the  leaves  were  off,  he  could 
dimly  detect  moving  forms  and  smothered 
laughter.  He  tried  to  persuade  himself  that 
the  thrower  had  only  aimed  at  something  in 
the  hedge,  and  that  if  he  kept  quiet  they 
would  pass  on  without  noticing  him  ;  so  he 
crouched  down  as  close  to  the  bank  as 
possible,  and  kept  very  still. 

I  am  compelled  as  a  truthful  biographer 


134  TIM  CHAP. 

to  admit  that  physical  courage  was  not  a 
characteristic  of  my  hero,  and  as  he  held  his 
breath  in  the  undignified  attitude  he  had 
assumed,  he  could  hear  his  heart  beat  loud 
with  apprehension.  There  was  a  pause,  and 
then  a  muttered  conference,  and  presently 
another  stone  followed  the  first.  Placed  as 
he  was,  Tim  was  pretty  safe,  and  two  or 
three  succeeding  missiles  passed  innocently 
over  him.  Then  came  another  pause  ;  the 
attacking  party  were  surprised  that  no 
attempt  was  made  to  return  fire,  and  they 
feared  an  ambush. 

The  fact  was  that  he  of  the  hat  had  joined 
forces  with  some  other  lads  of  his  own  size, 
discarding  the  crew  of  weaklings  who  had 
deserted  him  in  his  hour  of  need,  and  they 
had  taken  up  a  position  in  which  to  waylay 
Tommy  on  his  return  to  Eton,  and  seize  an 
unique  opportunity  of  wiping  off  old  scores 
by  humiliating  their  enemy  without  doing  him 
any  great  injury.  It  is  only  fair  to  them  to 
state  that  there  is  no  good  ground  for  sup- 


vi  TIM  135 

posing  that  they  deliberately  attacked  Tim 
knowing  him  to  be  alone ;  they  probably 
thought  his  warlike  friend  was  with  him, 
and  the  stones  were  only  meant  to  open  the 
affair,  and  force  Tommy  to  disclose  himself. 
Having  debated  among  themselves,  they 
could  think  of  no  better  plan  than  to  fire 
another  volley,  which  they  accordingly  did, 
and  Tim  had  closed  his  eyes  and  given  him 
self  up  for  lost  when  he  heard  unmistakable 
signs  of  terror  and  confusion  behind  the 
hedge,  and  then  the  sound  of  a  general 
stampede  of  hastily  retreating  footsteps. 

The  next  minute  some  one  cleared  the 
hedge  and  alighted  close  to  him,  and  a  well- 
known  voice  exclaimed,  '  The  brutes !  they 
were  rocking  a  little  fellow ;  I  wish  to  good 
ness  I'd  caught  one  of  them.  Hullo!  Eb- 
besley,  is  that  you  ?  Why,  how  the  deuce 
did  you  get  into  this  sort  of  row  ? ' 

Tim  hardly  yet  realised  that  it  was  Carol 
who  had  dropped,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  gray 
sky  for  his  deliverance,  and  who  now  stood 


136  TIM  CHAP. 

before  him,  with  cheeks  flushed  by  wind  and 
running,  holding  out  large  kind  hands  to  pull 
him  on  to  his  feet  again.  He  felt  relieved 
and  grateful,  and  yet  somewhat  ashamed  of 
the  position  in  which  he  had  been  discovered, 
and  began  hastily  to  explain — 

'  I  had  gone  to  walk  with  Weston,  and  he 
said  something  to  that  fellow,  and  he  didn't 
like  it,  and  Weston  went  after  him,  and  he 
ran  away  ;  and  then  we  separated,  because  I 
wanted  to  get  back ' 

'  And  our  friend  meanwhile  conceived  the 
brilliant  plan  of  lying  in  wait  for  you,  and  shy 
ing  stones  at  you  from  behind  a  hedge.  What 
distinguished  bravery  ! '  interrupted  Villidge 
minor,  who  had  been  with  Carol,  and  who  now 
joined  the  party  through  an  adjacent  gap. 

'  What  an  infernal  coward  ! '  cried  Darley, 
whose  eyes  flashed  with  martial  ardour. 

'He  is,  luckily  for  him,  beyond  the  reach 
of  chastisement  for  the  present,'  rejoined  the 
more  phlegmatic  Villidge  ;  '  though  I  flatter 
myself  that  a  well-directed  pebble  was  not 


vi  TIM  137 

altogether  without  effect  on  the  calf  of  his  leg. 
You'd  better  cut  home,  Ebbesley,  if  you  want 
to  be  in  time  for  lock-up,  and  thank  your 
stars  Darley  and  I  happened  to  come  along 
when  we  did.'  Tim  would  have  liked  to 
thank  them,  but  found  no  words,  so  trotted 
off  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him. 

'  It's  just  as  I  thought,  Curly,'  continued 
Villidge,  as  he  and  Carol  followed  at  a  more 
leisurely  pace  ;  '  it's  that  little  monster  Weston 
who  has  brought  your  unhappy  fag  into  the 
scrape  in  which  we  found  him.  I  saw  them 
together  the  other  day,  and  reflected  that 
collapse  must  sooner  or  later  be  the  fate  of 
such  a  frail  little  vessel  in  the  same  stream 
with  such  an  iron  pot  as  Master  Tommy.' 

But  Carol  did  not  at  once  answer;  he 
was  watching  the  queer  little  figure  scudding 
along  in  front  of  them,  and  the  sight  of  that 
small  form  buffeted  by  the  bitter  weather 
somehow  suggested  to  him  how  unfit  such  a 
creature  must  be  to  fight  his  way  through 
the  rough  places  of  lower-boy  life. 


138  TIM  CHAP. 

1  Do  you  remember/  Villidge  continued, 
also  looking  at  Tim,  '  how  much  exercised 
you  were  when  Ebbesley  first  came  as  to 
what  you  could  do  for  him,  in  the  way  of 
looking  after  him,  and  that  sort  of  thing  ? 
I'm  thinking  that  this  piece  of  knight-errantry 
of  yours  in  his  behalf  comes  most  happily  to 
solve  the  difficulty ;  you  could  hardly  have 
done  him  a  better  turn,  or  looked  after  him 
to  more  purpose  than  by  snatching  him  from 
the  fate  of  the  first  martyr.' 

'  There's  not  much  knight  -what's  -his- 
name  in  having  a  lot  of  lubberly  beasts  run 
away  when  you  look  at  'em,'  replied  Carol 
modestly.  '  Seriously  though,  it  had  just 
occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  I  hadn't  done 
all  I  might  have  to  make  that  poor  little 
fellow's  life  easy  to  him.' 

'  I  can't  see  that  it  is  incumbent  on  you  to 
act  dry-nurse  to  all  my  tutor's  scugs ;  you 
might  keep  a  piece  of  pumice-stone  in  your 
room  to  take  the  ink  off  their  grimy  little 
hands,  or  save  up  the  rough  copies  of  your 


vi  TIM  139 

verses  to  stuff  your  young  friend's  hat,  and 
keep  it  a  hair's-breadth  or  two  higher  above 
his  ears,  but  I  really  don't  see  what  else  you 
could  do  for  him.' 

*  Don't  you  think  such  a  boy  as  that  must 
be  rather  bullied  among  the  small  fellows  ? ' 

'  Oh !  I  daresay  not  a  bit  more  than  is 
good  for  him ;  and  besides,  if  Tommy's 
taken  him  up  he'll  be  all  right ;  for  though 
he'll  probably  land  him  in  rows  with  the 
beaks,  he's  an  oracle  among  the  lower 
boys,  and  if  he  says  he's  a  good  sort,  they'll 
all  discover  they  always  said  so.  So  don't 
make  yourself  unhappy  about  him.' 

And  as  Carol  was  not  fond  of  making 
himself  unhappy,  he  took  the  advice. 


CHAPTER   VII 

Happy  places  have  grown  holy  ; 

If  we  went  where  once  we  went, 
Only  tears  would  fall  down  slowly 

As  at  solemn  sacrament. 

MRS.  BROWNING. 

IT  is  not  my  intention  to  trace  in  detail 
Tim's  career  at  school,  which,  after  all,  pre 
sents  few  points  of  interest.  His  first  two 
years  were  certainly  not  a  period  of  unmixed 
enjoyment  ;  but  other  boys  before  and  after 
him  have  gone  through  much  the  same  ex 
perience  without  taking  much  harm  from  it. 
And  after  a  time  boys  get  tired  of  persecution, 
as  of  other  pursuits.  It  is  not  worth  their 
while  to  continue  to  bully,  unless  there  is 
some  special  reason  for  it,  and  in  Tim's  case 
there  was  none  ;  his  offences  were  all  purely 


CHAP,  vii  TIM  141 

negative,  sins  of  omission,  absence  of  qualities 
decreed  to  be  necessary  to  salvation  by  the 
Vehm-gericht  of  collective  boyhood  through 
many  generations. 

Villidge  was  right  to  a  certain  extent  in 
his  prophecy  of  the  good  effects  likely  to 
spring  .from  the  patronage  of  Tommy. 
There  is  little  or  no  doubt  that  Tim's 
ultimate  admission  to  a  recognised  social 

o 

standing  owed  its  first  small  beginnings  to 
his  intimacy  with  that  eccentric  youth.  Boys 
go  in  flocks  ;  and  if  it  is  the  fashion  to  treat 
one  of  their  number  with  unkindness,  while 
the  active  throw  each  his  little  stone,  the 
passive  turn  aside  and  stop  their  ears  to  the 
victim's  groans.  We  are  not  all  thieves,  and 
are  in  the  habit  of  returning  thanks  for  that 
fact,  but  when  a  fellow-traveller  has  fallen  in 
with  a  band  of  these  gentry,  the  proportion 
of  Samaritans  to  priests  and  Levites  is  not 
large,  and  nowhere  smaller  than  among  boys. 
But  when  the  tide  turns,  and  some  one  with 
more  character  than  the  rest  picks  up  the 


142  TIM  CHAP. 

wounded  comrade  and  gives  him  a  word  of 
encouragement,  pronouncing  him  '  not  such  a 
very  bad  lot/  the  rest  veer  round,  and  peace 
is  restored.  It  is  impossible  to  fix  the  exact 
date  of  the  change  ;  the  deliverance  is  as 
intangible  as  the  persecution.  To  Tim  it 
came  far  more  slowly  than  Villidge,  with 
his  happy  knack  of  establishing  coincidence 
between  his  wishes  and  probability,  had 
foretold  for  the  comfort  of  Darley's  uneasy 
conscience. 

It  is  true  that  Weston  was  popular  among 
his  contemporaries,  but  at  the  time  of  the 
Ditton  expedition  he  was  still  in  Fourth 
Form,  and  the  Remove  little  boys,  though 
they  frequented  him  freely  and  to  a  certain 
extent  admired  him,  would  not  have  ac 
cepted  his  opinion  of  a  third  person  where  it 
differed  in  any  way  from  their  own.  But  a 
young  man  who  had  been  for  almost  two 
years  in  Fifth  Form  could  not  be  expected  to 
recollect  these  subtle  distinctions  of  lower-boy 
life. 


vii  TIM  143 

The  leaven  was  working  surely,  however. 
Tommy  stuck  staunchly  to  his  protege,  as 
they  mounted  the  lowest  rungs  in  the  ladder 
together,  and  by  Tim's  third  summer-half, 
when  he  had  been  two  years  at  Eton,  had 
learnt  to  keep  his  fingers  freer  from  ink,  and 
to  wear  hats  that  fitted  him,  he  stood  firmly 
on  a  platform  from  which  he  could  look  back 
with  tolerable  equanimity  on  his  past  troubles. 
This  half  Fifth  Form  would  open  its  portals 
to  him,  and  he  would  cease  to  be  a  lower  boy  ; 
but,  alas !  this  was  also  Carol's  last  half  at 
school,  and  little  as  had  come  of  his  dreamed- 
of  companionship,  that  was  a  thought  on 
which  Tim  could  hardly  trust  himself  to 
dwell.  He  had  made  a  few  little  acquaint 
anceships  since  it  had  become  the  fashion  to 
find  good  in  him,  and  was  no  longer  desolate, 
but  he  did  not  make  friends  readily,  and  these 
new  connections  with  the  world  around  him 
left  quite  untouched  the  old  ruling  devotion 
of  his  life  whose  roots  were  very  deep  in  him 
indeed.  Carol  was  almost  more  his  hero 


144  TIM  CHAP. 

than  ever.  The  very  separateness  of  their 
respective  positions  served  to  enhance  his 
devotion.  It  seemed  quite  right  and  natural 
that  Carol  should  be  a  king  among  men, 
should  stand  at  the  corner  of  the  street  with 
other  godlike  beings,  his  peers — yet  how 
immeasurably  below  him  in  the  estimation 
of  his  faithful  admirer — should  carry  a  cane 
(badge  of  the  greatest  honour!)  at  football 
matches  in  the  winter,  and  play  cricket  for 
the  eleven  in  summer.  His  walls  were 
decorated  with  caps  of  many  colours — the 
eleven,  the  '  Field,'  the  house  cap,  and  many 
more.  Pewter  cups  won  in  athletic  con 
tests  occupied  little  carved  brackets  over 
his  chimney-piece,  and  the  rules  of  '  Pop ' 
framed  in  pale  blue  ribbon  sprawled  over 
half  the  available  space  on  one  side  of 
his  little  room.  In  short,  he  was  the 
typical  'swell'  or  successful  public-school 
boy,  and  a  very  kindly,  gentle,  magnanimous 
fellow  into  the  bargain,  as  became  his  great 
ness. 


vii  TIM  145 

Tim  used  to  trot  off  to  the  playing-fields 
in  those  long  hot  days,  and  lie  there  under 
the  trees,  watching  the  light  athletic  figure 
clad  in  white  flannel  springing  hither  and 
thither  in  the  game,  till  the  other  boys, 
knowing  his  indifference  to  their  sports, 
wondered  sometimes  at  the  regularity  of  his 
attendance  at  all  the  cricket  matches. 

It  was  Saturday  after-twelve,  and  Tim 
was  occupying  his  usual  corner,  with  his  rug 
spread  on  the  edge  of  the  shadow,  and  a  half- 
eaten  bag  of  cherries  beside  him.  The  first 
innings  was  just  over,  and  Carol,  released 
from  his  duties  in  the  field,  came  sauntering 
round  the  ground  arm-in-arm  with  another 
magnificent  young  cricketer  like  himself. 
Tim  was  turning  his  attention,  no  longer 
claimed  by  the  game,  to  the  firm  red  fruit, 
when  he  heard  his  name  spoken  in  the  voice 
that  never  failed  to  make  his  nerves  thrill. 

'  Hulloa,  Ebbesley  !'  said  his  lord  and  fag- 
master  loftily,  but  not  unkindly,  '  what  are 
you  up  to  ?  Wasting  your  time  as  usual,  eh  ?' 

L 


146  TIM  CHAP. 

'  I  was  looking  at  you,'  answered  the  little 
boy  simply  and  truthfully,  wholly  unaware 
that  his  reply  partook  of  the  nature  of 
repartee.  Carol  flushed  and  looked  a  little 
annoyed  ;  then  he  laughed. 

'  That's  one  for  me,  anyhow,'  he  said,  as  he 
resumed  his  walk. 

*  Who's  your  young  friend  ? '  asked  his 
companion. 

'  My  fag  ;  he's  one  of  the  queerest  little 
beggars  I  ever  saw ;  I  know  him  at  home, 
and  am  supposed  to  look  after  him.  I've 
been  trying  for  two  years  to  discover  the 
meaning  of  the  term,  and  the  duties  con 
nected  with  it.' 

'  You've  some  cheek,  answering  Darley 
like  that,'  said  the  stout  Sawnders,  who,  too 
lazy  to  bring  down  a  rug,  and  having  neither 
money  nor  credit  wherewith  to  obtain  cherries, 
had  decided  to  bestow  his  company  on  Tim 
in  return  for  a  share  of  those  luxuries. 

'  I  didn't  mean  to  be  cheeky,'  said  Tim, 
aghast  ;  '  do  you  suppose  he  was  angry  ?' 


vii  TIM  14? 

'  I  don't  believe  he  half  liked  it,  before 
another  swell ;  he  got  very  red.' 

'  Oh  dear  me !'  said  Tim  wearily,  '  I  seem 
always  to  say  the  wrong  thing/ 

1  Well,  you'd  better  come  back  to  my 
tutor's  now,  anyway,'  said  Sawnders  ;  '  it's  a 
quarter  to  two,  and  they  won't  begin  the  next 
innings  before  dinner.' 

As  they  went  towards  College,  Tim,  whose 
mind  was  busy  with  the  thought  that  he  had 
offended  Carol,  felt  himself  taken  by  the 
scruff  of  the  neck,  and  turning  to  expostulate, 
found  himself  in  the  grasp  of  his  tutor,  who 
regarded  him  with  keen  friendly  eyes. 
'Well,  little  boy,'  he  said,  'have  you  been 
looking  at  the  match  ?' 

1  Yes,  sir.' 

'  All  after  twelve  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir.' 

1  And  you  mean  to  come  back  after  four  ? 

*  Yes,  I  think  so,  sir.' 

1  Have  you  done  all  your  work  ?' 

'  Yes,  sir.' 


148  TIM  CHAP. 

*  Then  I  think  you  had  much  better  come 
out  with  me.  You  don't  care  a  rap  about 
cricket,  I  know,  and  only  come  here  to  loaf. 

Mr. and  I  are  going  to  drive  to  Burnham 

Beeches  this  afternoon,  and  walk  back  after 
tea.  You  and  Sawnders  can  come  too,  and 
when  you  see  Weston,  you  may  request  the 
pleasure  of  his  company,  if  his  engagements 
in  Sixpenny  and  his  numerous  punishments 
will  permit.' 

'  Oh,  thank  you,  sir  ;  that  will  be  jolly  ! ' 

So  the  little  boys  scudded  off  in  search  of 
Tommy,  whom  they  found  with  his  head  in  a 
basin  of  water,  preparing  for  dinner.  They 
communicated  their  tutor's  message,  while  he 
sputtered  in  his  towel.  Tommy  was  already 
relatively  for  his  age  a  celebrity  in  the  cricket 
ing  world,  and  doubted  if  a  whole  after-four 
could  be  spared  from  that  game. 

'  As  to  the  pcenas,  to-morrow's  Sunday,  and 
I  shall  have  lots  of  time  to  do  them.  I've  only 
got  the  eleven  o'clock  lesson  to  write  out  and 
translate  four  times,  and  a  hundred  lines,  and 


vii  TIM  149 

three  copies  of  extra  work.  Well,  hang  Six 
penny  for  once;  I'll  devote  this  afternoon  to 
the  beauties  of  nature.' 

*  I  like  tea  at  that  cottage,'  said  Sawnders 
meditatively.  '  They  have  such  good  bread 
and  butter,  and  real  cream,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  tutor  took  a  cake.' 

'  Sawnders,  you're  a  white  hog,'  said 
Tommy  ;  (  Skinny  and  I  are  above  such  trifles. 
I  hope  there'll  be  jam.' 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon  in  the  late  hay- 
harvest,  and  the  drive  was  delightful.  The 
last  of  the  wild  roses  still  lingered  in  the 
hedges,  and  the  little  grass  that  remained 
uncut  was  starred  with  great  white  field 
daisies.  The  boys  on  the  back  seat  of  the  fly, 
in  change  coats  and  straw  hats,  were  in  a 
holiday  mood,  and  full  of  silly  talk.  Tommy 
had  mounted  the  box,  and  sat  beside  the 
driver,  of  whom  he  was  an  old  friend,  and  it 
was  not  till  the  vehicle  very  nearly  carried 
away  the  gate-post  on  Dorney  Common  that  he 
was  discovered  to  be  in  possession  of  the  reins. 


1 50  TIM  CHAP. 

*  We  had  better  leave  Eton  by  the  quiet 
way,'  his  tutor  had  said  ;  '  there  are  so  many 
of  the  authorities  who  have  just  claims  on 
Weston's  leisure,  that  we  shall  never  get  him 
safe  out  of  the  place  if  we  attempt  to  drive 
through  College.' 

Of  this  delightful  man's  pleasant  relations 
with  his  pupils  I  have  spoken  elsewhere. 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  who  had  been  brought  up  at 
a  private  school,  and  in  the  good  old  days 
when  boys  regarded  their  schoolmaster  as 
their  natural  enemy,  had  looked  forward,  not, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  with  unmixed  dissatisfaction, 
to  the  idea  that  his  son  would  turn  to  him  for 
sympathy  and  help  in  the  inevitable  scrapes 
which  official  severity  was  apt  to  magnify 
into  crimes.  He  had  made  his  first  visit 
to  Eton  after  Tim's  admission  prepared  of 
course  to  uphold  authority  and  do  all  that 
was  right  and  proper,  but  determined  not 
to  be  too  severe  with  the  boy  for  his  trans 
gressions  of  the  rigid  letter  of  school  law  ;  he 
was  going  to  be  very  large-minded  and  under- 


vii  TIM  151 

standing.  And  behold !  there  had  been  no 
thing  to  sympathise  about ;  above  all,  nothing 
to  condone.  The  little  boy  was  so  law-abiding 
that  he  could  have  lived  without  transgression 
under  a  far  stricter  code,  and  whereas  he  had 
been  cold  and  somewhat  uncommunicative  on 
several  other  points,  he  kindled  into  some 
thing  very  like  enthusiasm  when  he  spoke  of 
his  tutor's  kindness  to  him.  Mr.  Ebbesley 
told  himself  that  he  was  very  glad  it  was  so, 
but  it  seemed  to  him  hard  to  be  the  only 
person  without  the  power  of  awakening  his 
son's  affection. 

Is  it  not  significant  that  this  chapter,  which 
is  the  happiest  in  my  story,  should  be  one  of 
the  shortest  ?  This  was  a  day  in  Tim's  life 
in  which  birds  sang  and  flowers  bloomed  for 
him,  and  for  twelve  hours  the  murmur  of  the 
sad  undercurrent  that  flows  all  through  his 
history  had  faded  from  the  ear.  For  my  part, 
I  am  so  glad  to  think  of  this  afternoon's 
pleasure  that  he  had,  that  I  cannot  refrain 
from  leaving  it  on  record,  though  it  does  not 


152  TIM  CHAP. 

advance  the  action  of  my  drama,  a  considera 
tion  which  I  am  well  aware  a  writer  is  bound 
to  respect.  I  have  been  to  Burnham  at  all 
seasons  of  the  year,  from  earliest  spring,  when 
there  is  hardly  a  wash  of  green  on  the  noble 
trees,  to  latest  autumn,  when  the  ground  is 
ankle-deep  in  glorious  colour,  and  it  would  be 
hard  to  say  when  there  is  most  beauty  there. 
I  have  never  visited  the  spot  in  midwinter, 
but  I  am  quite  sure  that  if  one  did  the 
familiar  glades  would  have  some  appropriate 
charm  for  his  delight,  so  regularly  does 
each  season  lend  its  own  especial  gifts  to  deck 
that  favoured  place.  At  Tim's  age,  as  a  rule, 
a  love  of  nature  for  her  own  sake  is  a  rare 
possession ;  it  is  a  compensation  kept  to 
console  older  people  for  the  loss  of  so  many 
other  enjoyments  that  then  made  the  world 
bright  to  them.  But  perhaps  it  was  because 
his  young  life  was  so  lacking  in  the  ordinary 
elements  of  boyish  happiness,  that  this  gift 
of  later  age  was  vouchsafed  to  our  little  lad. 
Certainly  the  sunlight  on  the  smooth  gray 


vii  TIM  153 

trunks,  and  the  peculiar  dappled  shadows  on 
the  sward  that  only  beech-leaves  can  cast,  had 
a  secret  to  tell  him  on  this  blest  half-holiday, 
which  would  have  been  Hebrew  and  Greek 
to  his  two  playmates.  I  think  it  must  have 
been  this  knowledge  of  the  country  as  the 
anodyne  for  bruised  hearts,  which  made  As 
You  Like  It  his  favourite  play,  for  Tim  read 
Shakespeare,  in  Mr.  Bowdler's  edition  with 
which  his  father  had  taken  care  to  provide 
him.  Burnham  was  Tim's  Ardennes,  and 
it  would  hardly  have  surprised  him  to 
come  on  the  cousins  walking  in  the  wood 
while  Touchstone  lay  hard  by  among  the 
bracken. 

By  this  time,  however,  he  knew  too  much 
to  communicate  such  fancies  as  these  to  his 
companions.  The  three  ran  down  steep 
places,  jumped  off  banks  into  heaps  of  last 
year's  leaves  that  still  lay  piled  in  some  of 
the  hollows,  and  climbed  the  trees,  on  one  of 
which  Tommy,  who  was  certainly  very  unlike 
Orlando  in  other  respects,  inscribed  his  own 


154  TIM  CHAP. 

initials  and  those  of  the  party,  including  his 
tutor,  who  is  ignorant  to  this  day  of  the  liberty 
taken  with  his  signature. 

Tim  ran,  climbed,  and  shouted  like  the 
others,  and  enjoyed  himself  amazingly.  He 
and  Sawnders  entrenched  themselves  in  a 
hollow  tree  which  Tommy  was  to  carry  by 
assault  armed  with  a  long  stick  he  had  found  ; 
but  the  game  had  to  be  abandoned  on  account 
of  Sawnders's  not  unnatural  objection  to  being 
hit  really  hard,  which  Tommy  treated  with 
the  most  withering  scorn. 

'  It  isn't  funny  to  hurt  people,'  said  the 
injured  defender  of  the  tree,  ruefully  caressing 
his  wounded  member  ;  and  this  led  to  a  dis 
cussion  on  the  nature  of  true  wit,  which  lasted 
till  their  tutor  came  to  call  them  to  tea,  and 
inform  them  parenthetically  that  they  had 
made  themselves  look  *  even  more  disgusting 
objects  than  usual.' 

Then  for  the  first  time  Tim  noticed  with 
some  surprise  how  tired  he  felt  ;  indeed  for  a 
few  moments  he  was  so  white  that  the  other 


vii  TIM  155 

master  who  accompanied  them,  observing  him, 
thought  he  was  going  to  faint. 

'Oh,  it's  nothing,'  said  Tim;  'I  suppose 
I've  done  more  than  usual  to-day.  I  didn't 
feel  tired  till  we  stopped.' 

Sawnders  at  once  discovered  that  he  was 
quite  used  up  too,  but  was  promptly  snubbed 
by  his  tutor. 

1  That  little  Ebbesley  does  not  look  at  all 
strong,'  said  the  other  master,  when  the  two 
men  were  for  a  little  out  of  earshot  of  their 
young  companions ;  '  are  you  not  anxious 
about  him  ? ' 

'  He  is  certainly  delicate,'  Tim's  tutor 
answered  thoughtfully  ;  *  but  I  hope  he  may 
outgrow  it  in  time,'  and  on  the  homeward 
drive  he  was  very  careful  of  Tim. 

So  happy  had  the  boy  been  in  the  guile 
less  amusements  of  the  afternoon  that  for  the 
time  he  actually  forgot  to  think  of  Carol. 
But  as  they  neared  Eton  on  their  return  the 
recollection  of  their  encounter  of  the  morning 
and  the  possibility  that  he  had  offended  him 


156  TIM  CHAP. 

came  back  with  a  sudden  pang  to  his  mind — 
a  pang  which  was  proved  to  be  quite  super 
fluous  the  very  next  day. 

It  was  Sunday  morning,  an  ideal  bright 
summer  Sunday,  and  Carol  was  standing  at 
his  tutor's  door  in  rather  a  chastened  frame  of 
mind.  The  bells  were  ringing  for  service,  and 
from  out  the  houses  the  boys  were  issuing, 
each  in  his  best  clothes  and  with  a  generally 
brushed  -  up  appearance.  The  sun  shone 
upon  the  house  opposite,  and  made  little  silver 
shields  of  the  leaves  of  the  magnolia  that  was 
trained  against  it.  Carol  was  thinking  re 
gretfully  how  few  more  Sundays  he  should 
sit  in  the  dear  familiar  chapel,  a  boy  among 
boys ;  and  looking  back  across  the  happy 
years  of  his  school- life, — hardly  a  cloud  had 
dimmed  their  brightness ; — in  retrospect  they 
seemed  one  unbroken  march  of  friendliness, 
gaiety,  pleasure,  and  modest  triumph.  Eton 
had  treated  him  very  kindly,  and  he  was  sorry 
to  leave.  Just  then  who  should  come  out 
but  little  Tim.  He  had  recovered  to  some 


vii  TIM  157 

extent  from  his  fatigue  of  the  day  before,  and 
had  refused  to  stay  out,  though  his  tutor  had 
suggested  the  legitimacy  of  such  a  course  if 
he  were  so  inclined. 

As  it  chanced,  the  two  were  alone.  Carol 
laid  a  kind  hand  upon  him  and  called  him 
'  Tim.'  The  old  nickname  brought  a 
quick  flush  of  pleasure  into  the  colourless 
face ;  at  Eton  Carol  always  called  him 
'  Ebbesley.' 

'It's  a  great  pity,  Tim,'  the  big  boy  was 
saying,  '  that  we've  seen  so  little  of  one 
another  ;  that's  the  worst  of  this  place,  every 
thing  goes  in  layers.  If  a  fellow  isn't  in  your 
division,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world  you 
can  never  see  anything  of  him.' 

'  You've  always  been  very  good  to  me, 
Darley,'  Tim  answered  gratefully. 

'  You  won't  have  to  call  me  ((  Darley  "  any 
more  now  I'm  leaving.  I  say,  Tim,  will  you 
write  to  me  sometimes  next  half  and  tell  me 
all  about  the  old  place  ?  All  my  friends  of 
my  own  standing  are  leaving  too  ;  and  after 


158  TIM  CHAP. 

all,  you  know,  you  are  really  the  oldest  friend 
of  them  all.' 

'Oh,  Carol,  may  I  ?'  cried  Tim  ;  but  just 
then  an  eruption  of  other  boys  occurring  from 
the  narrow  doorway,  he  departed  to  chapel 
without  expressing  himself  further.  He 
trod  upon  air ;  Carol  had  called  him  by  his 
old  name,  and  bade  him  do  the  like  by  him, 
had  spoken  of  their  long  friendship,  had  asked 
him  to  write  to  him.  And  he  had  been 
thinking  he  had  offended  him !  Tim  offered 
up  genuine  thanksgivings  in  the  old  chapel, 
where  so  many  generations  of  boys  have 
knelt  on  the  threshold  of  life,  as  he  and  Carol 
were  kneeling  then. 

It  happened  that  morning  that  the  first 
lesson  was  the  beautiful  lament  of  David  over 
his  dead  friend  Jonathan  ;  and  Tim,  listening 
to  the  history  of  those  two  friends  long  ago, 
felt  his  love  for  his  friend  almost  a  religion  to 
him.  'Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,'  said 
the  voice  of  the  reader,  '  passing  the  love  of 
woman.'  '  What  woman  could  ever  love  him 


vii  TIM  159 

as  I  do  ? '  thought  Tim,  as  he  looked  naturally 
to  the  seat  where  Carol  sat.  At  that  moment 
a  sunbeam  from  some  hole  high  in  the  roof 
fell  on  the  golden  curly  head  which  seemed 
transfigured  ;  and  as  Tim's  hungry  eyes  rested 
on  the  face  of  his  friend,  he  turned  towards 
him  and  smiled  upon  him  in  his  place. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Maud  is  not  seventeen, 
But  she  is  tall  and  stately. 

TENNYSON'S  Maud. 

CAROL  and  Tim  travelled  home  together  at 
the  end  of  the  half,  speeding  through  the 
golden  summer.  It  was  early  August,  and 
everywhere  the  full-eared  grain  swayed  ripe 
for  the  sickle.  Here  and  there  the  harvest 
had  already  begun  to  be  gathered  in,  and 
the  fields  were  dotted  with  the  reapers,  cut 
ting  and  binding  into  sheaves.  Larks  full- 
throated  hung  poised  in  the  quivering  air, 
the  woods  were  in  their  richest  summer 
green ;  poppies  in  field  and  hedgerow, 
geraniums  on  lawn  and  terrace,  blazed  each 
its  own  scarlet.  Shadows  were  small  and 


CHAP,  vin  TIM  161 


black,  and  lights  broad  and  warm.  And 
above  all  stretched  the  sky,  cloudless  to  the 
horizon,  and  blue  as  Carol's  eyes. 

To  be  nearly  nineteen,  to  have  left  school 
behind  one,  to  be  six  feet  high,  to  have  fine 
broad  shoulders,  and  a  brown,  honest,  hand 
some  face,  good  teeth,  good  spirits,  and  a 
good  digestion — surely  if  any  one  may  fairly 
be  called  happy  in  this  world,  it  would  be  the 
favoured  possessor  of  all  these  good  things. 
And  yet  Carol,  who  was  all  this,  and  more 
too,  was  pensive  as  he  sat  with  his  news 
paper  on  his  knees  and  stared  out  of  window. 
Leaving  school  is  one  of  the  first  regrets  of 
a  purely  sentimental  nature,  that  boys  meet 
with  in  life,  and  it  lends  a  tinge  of  romance 
to  existence.  To  have  come  to  the  end  of 
anything,  pleasant  or  otherwise,  is  always 
rather  a  solemn  thing.  To  fold  and  lay 
aside  a  period  of  our  life,  saying,  '  Whatever 
comes  or  goes,  that  is  done  with  and  cannot 
return,'  must  have  a  sobering  effect,  with 
however  high  a  courage  we  turn  to  meet  the 

M 


1 62  TIM  CHAP. 

untried.  People  with  whom  most  things  go 
pretty  smoothly  are  apt  to  think  that  the 
happy  time  just  past  is  the  happiest  of  their 
lives,  and  indeed  I  doubt  if  at  any  later  date 
a  healthy  popular  boy  is  likely  to  taste  such 
pure  joys  as  during  the  last  few  years  of  his 
public-school  life.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
Carol  had  ever  been  in  any  but  the  highest 
spirits  at  going  home  to  Darley.  Tim,  you 
may  be  sure,  respected  his  companion's  mood, 
and  made  but  few  attempts  at  conversation  ; 
the  feeling  of  class  distinction  between  '  upper 
division'  and  '  Remove'  was  still  strong  upon 
him,  and  kept  him  rather  constrained.  He 
would  have  been  hardly  less  at  ease  with  the 
Emperor  of  Russia,  had  he  encountered  that 
autocrat  in  a  first-class  carriage,  than  with 
this  other  boy  scarcely  older  than  himself  in 
the  eyes  of  their  elders, — for  whom  the  dis 
tances  between  the  various  stages  of  boyhood 
get  foreshortened  and  lost,  like  the  distances 
between  the  stars  ;  both  are  so  very  far  away. 
But  Carol,  now  he  had  burst  the  trammels  of 


vin  TIM  163 

Eton  conventionalism,  meant  to  see  more  of 
Tim,  for  whom  he  had  always  entertained  a 
friendly  feeling,  and  as  a  first  step  towards 
this  footing  of  greater  intimacy,  invited  him 
to  come  up  and  see  him  next  day,  when  they 
would  go  for  a  walk  together.  So  the  next 
afternoon,  when  the  shadows  were  begin 
ning  almost  imperceptibly  to  lengthen,  Tim 
skipped  off,  heart  elate,  for  the  Court.  His 
way  lay  through  pleasant  shady  woods,  and 
past  the  memorable  coppice  where  the  acci 
dent  had  occurred,  nearly  six  years  before, 
which  had  first  brought  him  acquainted 
with  Carol.  Much  of  the  old  childish  Tim 
lingered  in  his  nature,  round  the  alien  growth 
of  the  last  two  years,  and  he  was  seized  with 
a  sudden  longing  to  revisit  the  scene  of  their 
first  meeting.  He  parted  the  rods  carefully, 
and  stepped  into  the  thicket,  finding  as  nearly 
as  possible  the  exact  spot  where  he  had  sat. 
Let  us  leave  him  kneeling  there,  and  go 
before  him  to  the  Court,  nor  seek  to  pry  into 
that  cool  shade  of  hazel  boughs. 


1 64  TIM  CHAP. 

In  front  of  the  door  at  Darley  Court — not 
the  state  entrance  with  the  tall  flight  of  steps 
and  the  Doric  portico,  but  the  little  side-door 
more  generally  used — is  a  stone  porch  over 
grown  with  clematis  and  honeysuckle,  and 
containing  two  benches.  On  the  afternoon 
in  question  it  was  pleasantly  screened  by  its 
festoons  of  creepers  from  the  western  sun, 
which  blazed  hotly  on  the  gravel  before  it, 
where  two  fox-terriers  were  lying  on  their 
sides  enjoying  the  roasting  that  is  distasteful 
to  the  lords  of  the  creation.  The  stillness 
and  hush  of  a  hot  day  had  fallen  on  the  big 
house,  in  which  nothing  seemed  alive.  The 
blinds  were  pulled  down,  and  an  artificial 
twilight  reigned  in  the  darkened  rooms. 
Even  the  gray  parrot  was  too  lazy  to  talk. 
On  one  of  the  benches  in  the  porch,  in  keep 
ing  with  the  drowsiness  around  him,  Carol 
was  stretched  in  an  attitude  of  loose-limbed 
repose,  awaiting  his  small  friend.  He  made 
no  effort  to  read  the  book  in  his  hand,  but 
was  watching  with  a  listless  eye  the  ap- 


vin  TIM  165 

parently  purposeless  gyrations  of  a  pair  of 
white  butterflies  that  were  flitting  round  the 
honeysuckle  blossoms,  the  only  bit  of  active 
life  in  all  the  still  picture.  They  darted  and 
whirled  and  turned  over  and  over  one 
another  in  endless  play,  only  broken  now  and 
then  by  a  moment's  rest  with  folded  wings  on 
some  leaf  or  tendril.  One  of  the  dogs  got 
up  and  passed  round  the  corner  of  the  house 
with  that  slow  waddle  which  dogs  adopt 
between  sleeping  and  sleeping,  as  though 
they  were  afraid  of  waking  themselves  too 
thoroughly  in  the  short  interval.  By  and  by 
the  other  followed,  finding  the  sun-baked 
gravel  too  hot  even  for  him,  and  Carol  was 
left  alone.  He  was  conscious  of  a  delightful 
sensation  of  relaxation,  such  as  he  remem 
bered  to  have  experienced  in  a  hot  bath  after 
a  day's  hunting ;  he  had  abstracted  a  big 
cushion  from  the  library  sofa  as  he  came  out, 
and  rammed  it  into  the  small  of  his  back. 
What  wonder  that  as  he  watched  the  sports 
of  the  two  butterflies  he  felt  his  eyes  grow 


1 66  TIM  CHAP. 

heavy,  and  the  narcotic  influence  of  his  sur 
roundings  beginning  to  tell  upon  him,  he 
gradually  fell  asleep. 

For  a  while  the  profoundest  silence  rested 
on  the  scene — silence  broken  at  last  by  the 
voices  of  women  coming  up  the  carriage- 
drive. 

'  I  do  hope  they'll  be  at  home,  mamma ; 
I  must  rest  after  this  dreadful  walk.' 

The  speaker  was  a  tall  slim  girl  of  about 
sixteen,  dressed  in  cool  white  linen. 

'  My  dear  child,'  says  mamma,  a  no  longer 
blooming,  but  still  pretty  woman,  who  was 
swaying  a  pearl -coloured  parasol  over  her 
broad  gray  hat  and  draperies  of  lavender 
muslin,  '  I  have  no  doubt  they  will  let  us  sit 
down  for  a  little,  even  if  Mrs.  Barley  is  not 
at  home.' 

'  But  suppose  she  is  at  home  and  says  she 
isn't.  Old  ladies  always  go  to  sleep  on  hot 
afternoons,  or  take  off  their  caps,  or  some 
thing.  Then  if  we  ask  to  go  in,  what  will  the 
poor  butler  do  ?  That  would  be  a  terrible 


viii  TIM  167 

situation.  Do  you  remember  when  they 
said  (i  Not  at  home  "  at  the  Chillworthys',  and 
papa  insisted  on  seeing  the  cedars  on  the 
lawn,  and  there  were  the  whole  party  having 
tea  ?  I  never  shall  forget  it.  I  thought  my 
ears  would  take  a  week  to  get  white  again ; 
and  the  footman  had  to  say  he  "found  his 
mistress  had  come  back."  She  had  on  thin 
morocco  shoes  and  a  white  dressing-gown, 
which  is  not  the  dress  one  usually  puts  on 
for  walking.' 

'  Dearest  Violet,  it  was  most  awkward  ; 
don't  refer  to  it.  Perhaps,  as  you  say,  we 
had  better  not  say  anything  about  resting. 
I  noticed  a  seat  as  we  came  up  the  drive ; 
we  can  sit  down  there/ 

(  And  have  no  tea,  and  be  too  late  for  it  at 
home !  Oh,  mamma,  why  do  we  make  calls 
when  the  pony's  lame?  It  is  almost  in 
decent  to  go  hot  and  dishevelled  into 
people's  drawing-rooms,  and  with  dust  on 
one's  boots.' 

Violet  is  going  to  be  a  pretty  girl ;  indeed, 


1 68  TIM  CHAP. 

as  she  is  well  aware,  she  has  already  con 
siderable  personal  attractions  :  soft  brown 
hair,  with  red  lights,  a  little  rippled  on  her 
temples;  brown  eyes  full  of  merriment,  shaded 
by  long  dark  chestnut  lashes,  and  arched  by 
finely  pencilled  brows;  a  very  fair  skin,  flushed 
now  with  her  hot  walk,  and  slightly  freckled 
about  the  small  straight  nose ;  and,  rarest  of 
all  beauties  in  a  Northern  face,  a  neat  pretty 
mouth  and  chin.  In  her  white  dress  and 
green  ribbons,  she  is  very  pleasantly  notice 
able,  as  she  steps  firmly  along  beside 
her  languid  mother.  It  is  characteristic 
that  it  is  she  who  complains  of  the  heat, 
though  her  step  is  elastic  and  figure  erect, 
while  her  mother,  every  curve  of  whose 
rounded  form  expresses  the  last  stage  of 
graceful  lassitude,  endeavours  to  show  the 
bright  side  of  the  picture. 

'  It  will  be  much  cooler  going  home,  dear  ; 
the  sun  seems  to  have  less  power  already  ;  to 
be  sure,  we  are  in  shade  just  here,  which  may 
have  something  to  do  with  it.' 


vni  TIM  169 

1  Oh  !  mamma  dear,  of  course  it  has  every 
thing  to  do  with  it ;  why,  it  is  barely  five, 
and  at  this  time  of  year  the  sun  doesn't  set 
till  long  after  seven,  and  the  lower  it  gets  the 
more  it  blazes.' 

Thus  talking  they  arrived  at  the  porch, 
which  on  all  but  state  occasions  served  as 
front  door  at  Darley,  and  Violet,  who  was  a 
little  ahead,  stopped  short  on  the  threshold, 
and  looked  back  at  her  mother  with  a  gleam 
of  fun  in  her  arch  eyes. 

'  Why  don't  you  ring  the  bell,  dear  ? ' 
asked  that  lady. 

'  Come  and  see,'  replied  her  daughter. 
The  reason  is  soon  apparent.  Just  below 
the  bell  the  broad  back  of  a  youth  was  resting 
against  the  wall ;  his  arms  were  crossed  and 
his  chin  sunk  forward  on  his  breast. 

'Well.  Some  one  is  at  home  anyway,' 
whispered  the  girl,  '  and  it  is  not  only  old 
ladies  who  go  to  sleep  on  hot  afternoons,  it 
seems  :  this  must  be  "  Carol."  (By  a  fine 
inflection  of  voice  she  expressed,  maidenly, 


1 70  TIM  CHAP. 

that  the  familiar  appellation  was  meant  to  be 
in  quotation  marks,  and  was  not  used  by  her 
on  her  own  account.)  '  What  fun  ! ' 

'  Hush,  oh  !  hush,  dear  ;  if  he  should  wake 
and  hear  you  ! ' 

'  Well  ?  it  seems  the  shortest  way  out  of 
the  difficulty/  retorted  Violet. 

'  How  very  awkward,'  said  the  poor  lady, 
resorting  to  a  favourite  phrase  of  hers. 
'  Had  we  not  perhaps  better  go  away,  dear  ?' 

But  against  this  Violet  protested  ;  she  had 
not  walked  all  this  way,  to  go  again  without 
so  much  as  leaving  a  card  ;  besides  (though 
she  only  thought  this),  she  had  some  curiosity 
to  see  what  the  sleeper  would  look  like 
when  awake.  '  I  shall  ring,'  she  said. 

'  On  no  account.  Violet !  I  desire,  I  insist  ; 
so  awkward  ! '  cried  her  mother  in  an  impera 
tive  whisper,  clutching  the  hand  which  the 
girl  was  already  raising.  '  Perhaps  I  will. 
Oh  dear!  anyway  better  than  you/  and  she 
tremblingly  extended  her  own  hand  across 
the  head  of  the  unconscious  Carol.  But  at 


vni  TIM  171 

this  moment  one  of  the  terriers,  roused  by 
the  sound  of  strange  voices,  looked  round  the 
corner  and  barked,  and  Carol's  eyes  opened 
with  a  start,  to  find  a  strange  lady  with  out 
stretched  palm,  apparently  in  the  act  of 
blessing  him.  It  would  be  hard  to  say 
whether  she  or  Carol  blushed  the  more  when, 
more  fully  roused  to  the  situation,  he  had 
risen  and  stood  before  her. 

'  So  awkward/  she  began,  from  force  of 
habit ;  and  then  feeling  that  this  was  not  at 
all  what  might  be  expected  of  her,  she  con 
tinued,  '  Mr.  Carol  Darley,  I  suppose— 
heard  of  you  from  Mrs.  Darley — going  to 
try  and  find  her  at  home — only  lately  come 
to  live  in  the  neighbourhood — must  introduce 
myself — Mrs.  Markham  Willis  ;  my  daughter, 
Miss  Markham  Willis  '  ;  and  Mr.  Carol  made 
a  fine  bow  to  the  young  lady,  of  whose 
presence  he  now  first  became  aware. 

Mrs.  Darley  was  produced  presently  from 
some  mysterious  seclusion,  where  she  had 
probably  been  occupied  much  as  Miss  Violet 


172  TIM  CHAP. 

had  irreverently  supposed.  Carol's  grand 
mother  was  a  little  pink-and-white  old  lady, 
with  prim  sausage  curls  of  the  softest  flossy 
white  hair  on  her  forehead.  She  wore  beau 
tiful  caps,  trimmed  with  wonderful  brocaded 
ribbon,  and  a  great  quantity  of  minute  old- 
fashioned  lockets  and  brooches. 

'  I  see  you  have  made  acquaintance  with 
our  boy,'  she  said.  '  Carol  dear,  tell  your 
Aunt  Kate  that  Mrs.  Wallis  is  here.' 

She  had  never  got  her  husband's  name 
right  till  they  had  been  married  a  year, 
and  so,  as  the  Squire  used  to  say  when  he 
teased  her,  could  not  be  expected  to  re 
member  other  people's,  but  she  brought  out 
the  mangled  words  with  such  a  winning 
graciousness  and  such  an  entire  belief  in 
herself,  that  no  one  thought  of  being  offended, 
or  even  surprised.  She  had  called  Mr. 
Ebbesley  '  Eversley,'  '  Etherington,'  and 
'  Ebbrington  '  within  the  first  half- hour  of 
their  acquaintance,  and  Tim  was  either  '  Jim 
or  'Tom,'  as  it  happened. 


vin  TIM  173 

'  How  kind  of  you  to  come  and  see  me 
such  a  hot  afternoon,'  she  went  on.  'You 
must  be  tired  to  death.  You  must  have  some 
tea.  Kate,  dear,'  as  Carol  reappeared  with 
his  aunt,  '  never  mind  saying  how-d'ye-do. 
Mrs.  Williams  will  excuse  you,  I  know,  while 
you  tell  them  to  get  her  some  tea  as  soon  as 
possible  ;  it  will  be  better  than  ceremony  this 
hot  weather ;  and,  Kate,  some  of  the  little 
ginger-bread  cakes.  You  are  not  too  old  to 
like  cake,  dear,'  laying  a  kind  old  hand  on 
Violet.  *  As  for  Carol,  he  can't  have  enough 
of  them  ;  that  boy  will  eat  me  out  of  house 
and  home.' 

'Yes;  you  must  eat  our  ginger-bread,' 
said  Carol,  laughing.  '  Grandmamma  has  a 
wonderful  recipe  that  has  come  down  through 
generations  of  grandmammas,  till  it  has 
caught  quite  a  smell  of  hot  ginger-bread.' 

The  tea  was  not  long  in  making  its 
appearance ;  it  was  good  at  the  Court,  like 
everything  else,  and  was  drunk  out  of  little 
old  Worcester  cups,  which  the  present 


1 74  TIM  CHAP. 

occupant  keeps  in  a  tall  cabinet,  but  which 
were  then  used  every  day. 

Mrs.  Markham  Willis,  who  was  one  of 
the  earliest  victims  of  the  now  raging  china 
mania,  was  in  ecstasies  over  the  cups,  and 
wanted  to  know  their  date  and  history  and 
all  about  them  ;  indeed,  if  her  daughter  had 
not  stopped  her,  she  would  have  turned  hers 
upside  down  to  look  at  the  mark,  regardless 
of  consequences  ;  as  it  was,  she  held  it  high 
and  tried  to  peep  underneath  it. 

'  My  father-in-law  gave  them  to  us ;  they 
were  his  mother's,'  said  Mrs.  Darley ;  'the 
year  after  our  marriage  it  was,  1817.  I 
remember  because  of  Princess  Charlotte's 
death,  and  we  all  had  to  wear  mourning ;  but 
you  are  too  young  to  remember,  my  dear ' 
(she  called  every  one  *  my  dear ').  And  as 
Mrs.  Markham  Willis  had  been  born  some 
ten  years  after  that  sad  event,  there  was 
no  gainsaying  the  truth  of  the  old  lady's 
statement. 

Carol     meanwhile    was    making     himself 


vin  TIM  175 

agreeable  to  Violet,  and  by  the  time  Tim 
arrived  for  the  promised  walk,  they  were 
getting  on  very  comfortably  together,  con 
sidering  their  uncomfortable  ages  and  still 
more  uncomfortable  manner  of  introduction. 
So  much  so,  indeed,  that  Violet  was  not 
altogether  pleased  with  the  interruption. 
And  any  girl  might  be  excused  for  liking  to 
talk  to  Carol ;  he  was  so  big  and  handsome, 
so  easy  and  yet  so  unassuming  in  manner, 
that  she  wished  her  father  could  afford  to 
send  her  brothers  to  Eton,  if  this  was  a 
specimen  of  the  productions  of  that  school. 

They  were  not  a  large  party,  and  three 
out  of  the  five  were  already  known  to  Tim, 
but  the  impression  conveyed  to  him  when 
the  door  was  opened  for  his  entrance,  was 
that  of  a  large  company  of  strangers  engaged 
in  animated  conversation.  Tim's  experience 
of  female  society  was  derived  principally 
from  that  of  Mrs.  Quitchett,  and  he  was  not 
at  home  with  ladies  ;  he  had  an  uncomfortable 
feeling  that  women  would  despise  him  for 


1 76  TIM  CHAP. 

being  small  for  his  age  and  weak,  having 
gathered  from  his  varied  reading  the  idea 
that  they  liked  in  the  opposite  sex  such 
qualities  as  were  most  of  a  contrast  to  them 
selves.  Like  most  people  who  have  seen 
very  few  of  their  fellow-creatures,  he  was 
absurdly  self-conscious,  and  the  eight  femi 
nine  eyes  turned  upon  him  as  he  entered 
the  drawing-room  exercised  a  most  bewilder 
ing  effect  on  him.  Carol  came  to  his  rescue 
with  quick  kindliness,  taking  him  by  the  hand 
and  introducing  him  to  the  two  strangers. 

'It  is  so  pleasant  to  see  so  many  young 
people  about  one,'  said  Mrs.  Markham  Willis 
graciously,  which  threw  poor  Tim  into  yet 
fresh  agitation,  as  he  was  painfully  aware 
that  he  was  not  at  all  what  was  expected  in 
a  young  person,  and  feared  that  if  Mrs. 
Markham  Willis  really  did  like  young  people 
about  her,  and  thought  that  she  had  found 
one  in  him,  she  would  be  disappointed.  It 
is  such  a  common  form  of  egoism  in  children, 
and  one  not  perhaps  altogether  unknown  to 


vin  TIM  177 

older  people,  thus  to  exaggerate  the  import 
ance  of  their  relation  to  others,  who  have 
most  likely  never  thought  at  all  about  them. 

'  Is  Mr.  Heatherly  at  home  now?1  asked 
Mrs.  Darley  sweetly. 

'  "  Ebbesley,"  mamma,'  said  Miss  Kate. 

'Well,  dear,  I  said  so,'  returned  her 
mother,  quite  unruffled,  adding  sweetly  to 
Tim,  '  We  see  so  little  of  him  here.' 

'  He  is  expected  to-morrow,'  answered  the 
boy,  who  was  occupied  in  balancing  his  cup, 
which  would  slide  ominously  about  the  flat 
saucer,  and  trying  not  to  crumb  his  ginger 
bread  on  the  carpet.  '  He  wrote  to  me  that 
he  couldn't  get  back  before  ;  he  is  a  good 
deal  away  ;  I  am  to  meet  him  at  Granthurst.' 
The  cup  made  a  sudden  excursion  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  saucer,  and  Tim  just  saved 
it,  turning  hot  and  cold  at  once  at  the  thought 
of  what  might  have  happened.  After  this, 
he  refused  any  more  with  what  was  almost  a 
shudder,  and  Mrs.  Markham  Willis,  who  had 
been  pensively  regarding  the  company  with 

N 


i  ?8  TIM  CHAP. 

her  head  on  one  side,  remarked,  '  I  am  afraid 
we  really  must  go/  as  if  it  were  the  outcome 
of  a  long  conversation,  in  which  all  the  others 
had  been  pressing  her  to  stay.  In  the 
confusion  of  hunting  for  the  pearl-coloured 
parasol,  which  she  had  herself  put  behind  her 
on  sitting  down,  Carol  whispered  to  Tim, 
'You  won't  mind  our  walk  being  a  little  cut 
down,  old  fellow.  I  must  see  these  people 
home,  but  you  will  come  with  us,  and  we  can 
have  a  little  turn  after  we've  left  them.' 
What  could  Tim  say  but,  '  Oh  yes,  just  as 
you  like'?  And  so  Carol  offered  his  services 
as  an  escort,  and  the  four  set  out  together. 

'  I  don't  think  Mrs.  Wilkes  a  very  inter 
esting  woman,  dear,'  said  Mrs.  Darley  to  her 
daughter  when  the  visitors  were  gone.  '  She 
doesn't  seem  to  me  to  care  much  for  anything 
but  cups  and  saucers  ;  she  asked  me  why  I 
didn't  put  these  on  the  cabinet  instead  of 
those  pretty  vases  your  father  bought  last 
time  we  were  in  London  ;  and  it  is  so  tire 
some  of  people  to  have  two  names.  Now  I 


vni  TIM  179 

can  generally  remember  one,  but  two  is  too 
much.' 

Miss  Kate  smiled,  and  turned  the  conver 
sation  to  Violet's  beauty  ;  on  which  subject 
Master  Carol  also  descanted  a  little  later, 
when,  having  deposited  the  young  lady  and 
her  mamma  at  their  own  door,  the  two  lads 
were  going  slowly  across  the  fields  to  the  old 
manor-house.  The  sun  slanting  slowly  west 
wards  made  their  shadows  long  upon  the 
grass  as  they  walked.  Bess  and  Carol's 
terriers  trotted  on  before  them,  the  former 
slowly  lurching  in  a  slightly  sidelong  manner, 
but  with  infinite  dignity  as  became  her  years, 
the  two  smaller  dogs  jumping  hither  and 
thither,  and  poking  their  inquisitive  noses 
into  every  hole  in  the  hedge. 

1  Don't  you  think,'  Carol  was  saying,  '  that 
that  Miss  Markham  Willis  is  a  very  pretty 
girl?' 

'Well,  really,'  answered  Tim,  'I  daresay 
she  is.  Do  you  know,  I  don't  think  I  thought 
much  about  it ;  I  noticed  she  had  a  very  nice 


i8o  TIM  CHAP. 

white  dress,  but  I  didn't  see  much  of  her 
face ;  it  was  rather  dark  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  going  home  you  and  she  were 
walking  on  ahead,  so  that  I  only  saw  her 
back.' 

*  Here,  Nip;  here,  Scamp,  you  little  beasts! 
come  out  of  that ! '  called  Carol,  and  added 
pensively,  '  Yes,  she  is  pretty  ;  at  least  I  think 
she  will  be,'  with  the  calm  superiority  of  a 
man  of  the  world. 

'  Why,  how  old  do  you  suppose  she  is, 
then  ? ' 

*  She's  sixteen,  she  told  me — quite  a  child  ; 
though  when   she  comes  out   next  year  she 
will  treat  me  as  a  mere  boy,  and  think  herself 
far  above  me.     Did  you  see  the  score  Potts 
made   for   Kent    the    other    day  ?      Odd    he 
should  have  made  duck  at  Lords.' 

So  the  conversation  drifted  off  to  cricket, 
in  which,  as  in  how  many  other  things,  Tim 
took  a  profound  interest  as  long  as  Carol 
talked  of  them. 

After  a  time  the  talk  fell  on  school  matters. 


viii  TIM  181 

Carol,  like  most  boys  who  have  lately  left, 
was  full  of  anecdotes  of  what  had  happened 
'up  to'  this  master  and  that ;  how  Smith  major 
once  showed  up  the  same  pcena,  a  hundred 
lines  of  Virgil,  three  times  to  a  short-sighted 
and  long-suffering  instructor,  once  for  an 
j^Eneid,  once  for  "  write  out  and  translate  the 
lesson,"  and  once  for  a  book  of  Paradise  Lost ; 
with  many  other  such  edifying  details,  to  all 
of  which  winged  words  his  steadfast  admirer 
lent  a  greedy  ear.  From  such  stories  as 
these,  they  passed  to  more  personal  reminis 
cences,  and  Tim  was  forced  to  confess  that 
his  early  life  at  Eton  had  not  been  altogether 
a  bed  of  roses. 

'  I  was  rather  a  brute  not  to  see  more  of 
you  there,'  said  Carol,  'but  then  boys  are 
brutes.' 

Oh,  high  new  standpoint  from  which  to 
look  back  and  speak  of  '  boys  ' ! 

1  Indeed,  indeed,  I  did  not  think  so, 
Darley — Carol,  I  mean  ;  you  were  as  good  as 
possible  to  me  ;  you  could  not  do  more  ;  you 


1 82  TIM  CHAP. 

had  all  your  friends  before  I  came,  and  you 
were  so  much  higher  up,  and — 

'You're  a  good  little  soul,  Tim,'  Carol 
interrupted,  '  and  believe  in  every  one  ;  you'd 
make  excuses  for  a  man  who  robbed  and 
murdered  you.' 

'  But  you  never  robbed  and  murdered 
me,'  the  little  boy  answered,  venturing  to  be 
facetious  for  the  first  time.  '  I  am  sure  you 
did  all  you  could,  and  took  me  for  your  fag 
and  everything.  I'm  glad  I  shall  be  in  Fifth 
Form  next  half,  for  I  should  never  get  used 
to  fagging  for  any  one  else.' 

'  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,'  said  the 
other  deprecatingly,  'but  anyway  now  we 
are  Carol  and  Tim  again,  and  no  longer 
upper  division  and  lower  boy ;  I  hope  we 
may  be  friends.  You  will  have  to  write  me 
full  accounts  of  the  old  place  ;  most  of  my 
friends  have  left,  so  if  you  don't  I  shall  never 
hear  anything.  Mind  you  tell  me  what  new 
boys  there  are  at  my  tutor's  next  half,  and  if 
any  of  'em  can  play  football,  and  what  new 


viii  TIM  183 

choices  Harcourt  gives  their  colours  to,  and 
who  are  likely  to  give  us  trouble  for  the  cup.' 

'  How  funnily  it  all  came  about,  Carol,' 
said  Tim  modestly,  after  promising  faithfully 
to  comply  with  all  these  injunctions, — '  my 
having  you  for  a  friend,  I  mean.  One  Would 
have  thought  I  was  the  last  person  you 
would  ever  have  noticed.  I  can't  play  foot 
ball,  or  anything  you  like ;  indeed,  I'm  no 
good  at  any  games.' 

'You  give  me  a  good  character,'  answered 
his  friend,  laughing,  '  to  suppose  me  the  brutal 
athlete  who  selects  his  friends  by  their  muscle; 
you  don't  give  me  much  credit,  it  seems, 
for  intellectual  tastes.  Seriously  though/  he 
added,  looking  down  at  him  kindly,  '  you  are 
a  first-rate  little  friend,  and  will  be  my  link 
with  the  dear  old  place.' 

Tim  was  silent,  feeling  very  grateful  and 
happy. 

'  I  hope  nothing  will  ever  break  our 
friendship,'  he  said  presently. 

'  Oh  !  nothing  ever  will,'  replied  the  other 


1 84  TIM  CHAP. 

airily ;    '  at   least   it  will    be   your  fault    if   it 
does.' 

Would  it  be  his  fault  ?  Tim  smiled  at  the 
idea.  Would  he  ever  be  the  one  to  cast  aside 
what  he  most  valued  in  all  the  world  ?  He 
dwelt  upon  the  thought  with  some  amuse 
ment  ;  it  seemed  too  absurd  even  for  protest. 
Could  any  one  have  foretold  to  us  last  year 
eight  out  of  ten  of  the  things  that  have  be 
fallen  us  in  this,  how  we  should  have  laughed 
at  them  !  Still,  though  Tim  laughed,  one 
thought  seemed  to  oppress  him  even  in  his 
mirth  ;  it  was  an  odd  feeling  too  indefinite  to 
be  called  an  apprehension,  and  it  had  its  root 
and  origin  in  Violet.  She  was  the  first  young 
girl  he  had  ever  seen  placed  in  juxtaposition 
to  Carol,  and  the  sight  of  the  two  together, 
and  his  friend's  chance  remarks  upon  her 
beauty,  had  opened  up  quite  a  new  vista  of 
possibilities  to  him.  We  may  laugh  at  the 
notion  of  any  one  forecasting  results  from  the 
meeting  of  a  lad  of  eighteen  and  a  girl  of 
Violet's  age,  but  we  must  remember  the 


vin  TIM  185 

augur  himself  was  but  fourteen,  and  that  to 
him  these  other  two  seemed  almost  more  than 
grown  up.  He  had  come  to  look  on  Carol  as 
crowned  with  all  fulfilment,  a  being  to  whom 
no  future  years  could  add  any  power  or 
maturity,  and  Violet  was  tall  and  self-possessed 
enough  for  twenty ;  her  position  as  the  eldest  of 
a  large  family  had  made  her  old  for  her  age. 
All  the  complications  of  love  and  romance, 
never  hitherto  included  in  any  of  Tim's  views 
of  the  future,  started  into  threatening  being 
for  the  first  time,  the  more  alarming  for  their 
vagueness  ;  they  seemed  to  cast  quite  a  new 
light  upon  his  favourite  text,  as  he  repeated 
it  to  himself  on  his  knees  after  his  prayers 
that  night,  as  his  habit  was.  '  Passing  the 
love  of  woman.'  'The  love  of  woman';  he  had 
never  thought  of  it  that  way  before.  He  had 
supposed  it  meant  mother's  love,  sister's  love, 
all  the  good  things  he  had  never  known,  poor 
child  ;  and  could  only  imagine  the  love  of 
women  generally  as  being  gentler  and  more 
loving  than  men.  Would  Carol  ever  be  what 


1 86  TIM 


CHAP.   VIII 


the  books  called  '  in  love  '  ?  ever  marry  ? 
and  in  this  remote  and  awful  contingency 
could  they  stay  close  friends,  or  had  he  been 
assured  that  day  for  the  first  time  in  words  of 
the  friendship  he  most  coveted,  only  to  see  it 
melt  from  his  grasp  as  he  claimed  it  ?  In  vain 
he  asked  these  questions  of  his  own  heart. 
Of  course,  he  told  himself,  some  day  it  was 
sure  to  happen ;  he  was  a  fool  not  to  have 
thought  of  it  before.  But  what  were  the 
words?  l  Passing,'  yes,  'passing  the  love  of 
woman/ — that  part  at  least  he  could  always 
keep  true. 


CHAPTER   IX 

A  little  sorrow,  a  little  pleasure, 

Fate  metes  us  from  the  dusty  measure 

That  holds  the  date  of  all  of  us  : 
We  are  born  with  travail  and  strong  crying, 
And  from  the  birthday  to  the  dying 

The  likeness  of  our  life  is  thus. 

SWINBURNE'S  Ilicet. 

'You  might  come  up  to-morrow  afternoon, 
if  you  cared,'  Carol  had  said  as  they  parted, 
'  and  then  we  could  go  round  by  the  old  mill, 
as  I  meant  to  do  to-day,  and  you  would  see 
the  new  cart-road  grandfather  is  making  in 
the  wood.' 

And  who  so  ready  as  Tim !  Only,  he 
doubted  if  his  father  would  get  back  in  time 
for  him  to  get  to  the  Court  after  he  had  been 
to  Granthurst  to  fetch  him.  Would  Carol 


1 88  TIM  CHAP. 

leave  it  open?  And  Carol  had  said,  'All 
right,  old  fellow  ;  I  shan't  expect  you  till  I  see 
you' ;  on  which  understanding  they  had  parted, 
Tim  standing  to  watch  the  tall  active  figure 
striding  away  from  the  open  door  of  the 
manor-house,  calling  his  dogs  after  him. 

'  He's  a  fine  growed  lad,  that  young  Barley,' 
remarked  Mrs.  Quitchett,  who  had  come  out 
to  welcome  her  nursling  ;  '  do  you  remember 
the  day,  Master  Tim  dear,  when  he  came 
with  the  grapes,  the  first  time  ever  he  come 
here  ? ' 

'Remember?  Oh,  nurse,'  cried  Tim  (he 
always  called  the  old  lady  '  nurse  ' ),  '  he's  the 
noblest,  finest  fellow  going,  and  I  love  him 
better  than  anybody  in  the  world — except  you, 
dear,'  he  added  quickly,  putting  his  arms  about 
her  as  he  saw  a  quick  look  of  pain  cross  her 
face ;  and  then,  what  was  it  ?  a  prick  of 
conscience  perhaps  that  made  him  add  lower 
and  more  thoughtfully,  with  just  a  shade  of 
doubt  in  his  tone,  '  and  father.' 

Was  it  true  that  he  loved  his  father  better 


ix  TIM  189 

than  Carol  ?  The  question  had  never  before 
suggested  itself  to  him  in  that  crude  form. 
What  was  the  criterion  of  loving  ?  He  did 
not  know  ;  he  had  no  signs  to  go  by.  He  had 
assumed,  as  children  do,  that  of  course  he 
loved  his  father  ;  good  people  always  love 
their  parents.  It  was  only  that  vague  inde 
finite  class  of  'the  wicked,'  which  he  heard 
denounced  on  Sunday,  and  to  which  it  never 
occurs  to  a  child  that  he  or  any  of  his 
immediate  surroundings  can  possibly  belong, 
who  did  not  love  their  parents.  But  now  he 
felt  in  his  inmost  being  that  his  affection  for  his 
father  was  not  as  strong  as  that  for  his  friend, 
—was  not,  indeed,  of  the  same  sort  at  all,  and 
he  took  shame  to  himself  for  the  discovery. 
Many  of  us  live  thus  for  years,  allowing  our 
hearts  to  act  for  us,  and  never  asking  ourselves 
needless  psychological  questions ;  and  then 
suddenly  comes  a  time  when  we  seem  to  start 
up  uncomfortably  active  and  alert,  new  pos 
sibilities  open  out  around  us,  and  question 
ings  of  our  feelings  suggest  themselves  which 


190  TIM  CHAP. 

plead,  importunate,  for  answers.  Nor  can 
we  make  a  greater  mistake  than  in  sup 
posing  that  such  turns  in  their  lives  come 
only  to  men  and  women.  To  a  boy  of 
Tim's  organisation,  fourteen  is  an  age  quite 
ripe  for  crises. 

Violet  crosses  his  path,  erect,  slim,  and 
hazel-eyed,  and  in  a  moment  he  seems  to 
understand  all  possible  complications  of  love 
and  courtship  between  her  and  Carol.  He 
makes  a  chance  little  gush  to  his  old  nurse, 
and  lo !  conscience  awaking,  proceeds  to 
inquire  with  uncomfortable  pertinacity  into 
his  relations  with  his  father.  When  one  con 
siders  how  those  who  have  delicate  consciences 
like  our  hero,  suffer  and  writhe,  and  run  round 
and  round,  and  drive  their  stings  into  their 
own  brains,  one  is  tempted  to  ask  as  the  best 
gift  for  one's  dearest,  a  fine  tough  insensibility, 
a  happy  bluntness  of  the  moral  sense.  I 
suppose  the  moralists  would  tell  us  to  keep 
our  account  with  the  stern  goddess  as  clean 
as  possible,  to  put  into  her  hands  no  weapon 


ix  TIM  191 

for  our  torment ;  but  which  of  us  can  truly 
boast  of  such  a  course  as  that  ?  And  besides, 
does  not  experience  daily  teach  us  that  it  is 
precisely  the  most  blameless  among  us  she 
selects  for  her  favourite  victims  ? 

Tim,  as  he  sat  over  the  book  he  did  not 
read  that  night,  as  he  drove  over  to  Grant- 
hurst  in  the  trap  next  day,  could  not  help 
asking  himself,  '  What  have  I  ever  done  for 
father,  who  has  done  so  much  for  me  ?  What 
have  I  ever  given  up  for  him  ?  He  tried  to 
answer  that  no  boys  of  his  age  can  do  any 
thing  for  their  parents  ;  it  is  a  matter  of  course 
that  they  accept  what  they  get.  'Ah!  but/ 
says  conscience,  '  they  love  their  fathers. 
And  though  he  dared  not  put  it  into  words 
even  to  himself,  the  thought  was  ever  present, 
though  formless  as  yet  within  him,  that  he  did 
not  love  his  father. 

Poor  Mr.  Ebbesley !  no  one  did  love  him 
that  I  know  of;  no  one  ever  had.  He  was 
not  made  to  attract  love,  and  yet  if  his  heart 
was  not  breaking  for  it  (not  being  of  a 


192  TIM  CHAP. 

breaking  sort),  it  had  hardened  and  withered 
and  dried  up  for  want  of  it. 

To  have  longed  for  love  all  one's  life,  to 
have  sought  it  with  care  and  constantly 
missed  it,  is  as  sad  a  fate  as  can  well  be 
imposed  on  a  man,  and  is  not  calculated  to 
sweeten  the  temper. 

Looking  back  over  William  Ebbesley's  life, 
the  wonder  is  that  he  had  not  turned  out  a 
social  pariah  and  enemy  of  his  race.  There 
must  have  been  an  immense  moral  rectitude 
about  him  that  kept  him  true  to  what  he  be 
lieved  to  be  his  duty  to  his  neighbour. 

Early  left  an  orphan  by  poor  and  improvi 
dent  parents,  he  had  been  educated  by  the 
grudging  charity  of  people  with  a  family  to 
provide  for,  and  sent  abroad  at  an  age  when 
many  boys  have  not  left  school,  to  push  his 
own  fortunes.  Uncheered,  uncared-for,  he 
had  fought  his  way  through  twenty  hard 
years,  if  not  to  riches,  to  what  thirty  years 
ago  was  considered  a  very  decent  competence, 
and  had  returned  to  England  to  fall  a  prey  to 


ix  TIM  193 

one  of  those  absorbing  passions  for  a  beautiful 
and  penniless  girl  many  years  younger  than 
himself,  which  are  so  often  the  fate  of  men 
verging  on  middle  age,  in  whose  earlier  youth 
there  has  been  no  room  for  romance.  On 
her  he  had  lavished  all  the  wealth  of  love 
that  had  for  years  accumulated  in  his  lonely 
heart.  I  would  dwell  as  lightly  as  possible 
on  the  painful  and  bitter  episode  of  his 
short  married  life ;  of  the  way  it  ended  I 
have  already  given  a  hint  in  an  earlier 
chapter  of  this  story.  Just  where  he  had 
placed  all  his  hopes  of  happiness,  the  bitter 
est  shame  and  sorrow  of  his  life  had  lain  in 
wait  for  him. 

Many  men  would  have  been  utterly 
crushed  by  such  an  end  of  all  that  they 
had  longed  and  worked  for,  and  laid  down 
their  arms  in  the  unequal  struggle  with  fate. 
But  Ebbesley,  half  ruined  by  the  extravagance 
of  the  woman  he  had  loved,  wounded  to  the 
heart  by  her  cruelty,  and  humiliated  in  every 
fibre  of  his  proud  nature  by  her  unfaithfulness, 

o 


194  TIM  CHAP. 

had  yet  one  link  that  bound  him  to  the  world, 
one  thing  left  to  work  for.  It  was  such  a 
fragile  thread,  the  poor  little  year-old  baby, 
by  which  to  hang  on  to  affection  and  grace 
and  the  beauty  of  life,  but  it  was  his  all,  and 
he  grasped  it  despairingly.  For  the  baby's 
sake  he  had  gone  uncomplainingly  back  to 
years  more  of  the  banishment  he  had  thought 

J  o 

ended,  and  the  labour  he  believed  accom 
plished,  even  separating  himself  from  the 
child  for  the  child's  good.  We  have  seen 
how  he  dwelt  in  secret  on  what  his  son  was 
to  look  like,  and  be  like  ;  how  often  in  his 
own  mind  he  had  foreseen  the  manner  of 
their  meeting  ;  and  how,  when  the  time  was 
come,  he  had  chafed  at  every  delay,  count 
ing  trains  and  steamboats  but  crawling 
snails  compared  to  the  wings  of  love  that 
were  bearing  him  back  to  his  little  one. 
And  we  have  seen  too  what  awaited  him 
at  home.  If  I  have  wearied  my  reader  with 
insisting  on  the  barrenness  of  this  man's 
life,  it  is  because  I  am  full  of  pity  for  him, 


ix  TIM  195 

and  would  not  have  him  judged  too  hardly, 
if  in  what  follows  he  seems  unkind  to  his 
son. 

Tim  arrived  at  Granthurst  in  a  chastened 
frame  of  mind,  and  endeavoured  to  blot  him 
self  out  of  the  gaze  of  the  few  unemployed 
people  always  waiting  about  a  station,  who 
seized  on  him  as  lawful  prey,  and  stared  as 
though  with  a  view  to  his  identification  on  the 
morrow  before  a  jury  of  their  fellow-citizens. 
From  this  scrutiny,  which  was  peculiarly 
trying  and  distasteful  to  him,  he  was  shortly 
delivered  by  the  arrival  of  a  hot  dog,  who  was 
brought  in  resisting  violently  and  tied  to  a 
post,  and  upon  whom  all  the  interest  of  the 
unoccupied  population,  for  a  moment  directed 
at  him,  fastened  itself  with  avidity,  leaving 
Tim  once  more  to  his  compunctions.  The 
first  outcome  of  his  meditations  was  an  unusual 
infusion  of  tenderness  and  spontaneity  in  the 
greeting  kiss  he  bestowed  upon  his  father, 
when  in  due  course  the  train  brought  up  beside 
the  platform,  and  Mr.  Ebbesley  descended, 


196  TIM  CHAP. 

bending  a  cindery  whisker  towards  the  fresh 
young  lips. 

As  they  were  mounting  into  their  con 
veyance,  and  the  aggressive  whiteness  of  the 
'  W.  E.,'  which  from  the  side  of  his  black  bag 
thrust  its  owner's  personality  on  a  reluctant 
public,  was  being  eclipsed  under  the  seat,  a 
new  anxiety  suggested  itself  to  Tim,  which 
his  previous  train  of  thought  had  for  the  time 
kept  under.  Mindful  of  Carol's  invitation,  he 
consulted  his  watch,  and  found  that  his  power 
to  avail  himself  of  it  would  depend  upon 
whether  Mr.  Ebbesley  had  any  business  in 
Granthurst,  or  meant  to  return  at  once  to 
Stoke  Ashton  ;  timidly,  but  with  a  manner  of 
studied  unconcern,  he  asked  the  question,  and 
to  his  delight  his  father  answered  that  he  was 
going  straight  home.  It  seemed  as  though 
his  mind  in  its  rebound,  as  this  weight  was 
lifted  off  it,  scattered  the  doubts  and  fears 
that  had  oppressed  it  all  the  morning,  and  he 
felt  light  of  heart,  and  inclined  to  chatter  as 
the  carriage  rolled  on  its  way  over  breezy 


ix  TIM  197 

commons,  or  plunged  into  deep  shady  lanes. 
In  the  days  when  Tim  was  a  schoolboy 
August  was  still  a  hot  month,  and  the  warm 
sun  called  an  unusual  glow  into  his  cheek  at 
the  edge  of  the  shadow  cast  by  his  straw  hat 
with  its  pretty  ribbon. 

'  Eton  has  certainly  improved  him,'  thought 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  looking  at  him  half  critically  ; 
'he  has  lost  his  whipped-dog  expression,'  and 
he  smiled  approvingly  at  his  son,  saying  with 
frosty  geniality,  '  You  must  tell  me  all  about 
last  half;  how  have  you  been  doing  at  school?5 

'  Oh  !  it  has  been  a  very  jolly  half,  and  I 
have  hardly  stayed  out  at  all,  although  it  was 
so  hot.  I  wrote  you  that  I  took  i3th  in 
trials.  Tommy  Weston  said  it  was  an  un 
lucky  number,  but  I  told  him  he  would  not 
have  thought  so  if  he  had  been  there  in  the 
list  instead  of  25th.' 

'And  who  is  Tommy  Weston?'  asked 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  feeling  quite  friendly  towards 
this  other  man's  son  who  had  done  less  well 
than  his  own. 


198  TIM        .  CHAP. 

'Tommy  isn't  his  real  name,  you  know,' 
explained  Tim  ;  '  he's  a  fellow  at  m'-tutor's, 
and  the  other  fellows  call  him  Tommy  ;  he's 
been  very  jolly  to  me,  and,  indeed,  I  get  on 
better  with  all  the  fellows  than  I  did  at  first. 
And  I've  "  passed,"  which  means,  don't  you 
know,  that  I  can  swim,  and  may  go  on  the 
river,  and  I  think,'  rather  doubtfully,  '  I'm 
beginning  to  like  cricket  a  little.' 

'That's  a  good  thing,'  said  his  father 
judicially  ;  '  it  is  always  well  in  life  to  like 
what  other  people  like  ;  eccentricity  always 
brings  unhappiness.' 

Tim  glowed  and  expanded  with  the 
pleasant  sense  of  having  done  the  right 
thing ;  it  was  such  a  new  and  strange 
sensation.  'And  I've  grown,'  he  said  ex- 
ultingly  ;  'I'm  two  inches  taller  than  I  was 
in  the  spring.' 

*  Capital/  said  Mr.  Ebbesley,  almost  with 
enthusiasm  ;  and  he  thought,  '  It  is  not  always 
the  boys  who  grow  young  who  turn  out  the 
finest  men  in  the  end.'  'And  your  tutor?' 


ix  TIM  199 

he  asked ;  '  I  hope  he  is  satisfied  with 
you.' 

'  Oh !  m'-tutor's  been  awfully  good  to 
me  ;  he  always  is  ;  he  took  me  to  Burnham 
Beeches  the  other  day,  and  we  had  a 
delightful  afternoon,  and  he's  promised  to 
give  me  a  good  report.  I  was  5th  in  collec 
tions,  and  if  I  had  been  3d  I  should  have  got 
a  prize  ;  so  tutor  said  he  would  give  me  a 
little  book  anyway,  and  he  wrote  "to  con 
sole  "  in  it,  because  he  said  it  was  hard  luck 
on  me  being  just  out  of  it,  and  I  had  worked 
very  well  all  the  half.  Wasn't  it  kind  of 
him?' 

In  his  heart  Mr.  Ebbesley  thought  it  was 
a  foolish  indulgence,  but  he  was  feeling  so 
amiably  towards  his  son  just  then  that  he  let 
it  pass  without  comment.  Indeed,  he  seemed 
altogether  in  so  gracious  a  mood  as  he  sat 
listening  with  a  grave  smile  to  all  that  he 
was  told,  though  he  did  not  say  much,  that 
Tim  was  presently  encouraged,  rambling 
from  one  subject  to  another,  to  speak  of 


200  TIM  CHAP. 

Carol.  He  had  never  felt  so  near  to  his 
father  before,  so  able  to  talk  freely  to  him  of 
what  was  in  his  heart.  Ordinarily  he  did 
not  say  much  about  his  friend ;  his  father 
never  seemed  to  be  pleased  at  his  affection 
for  him.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  poor  man 
had  not  forgiven  Carol  the  awkwardness  of 
their  first  meeting,  and  the  innocent  part  he 
had  borne  in  the  disappointment  of  all  his 
most  cherished  expectations.  And  it  was 
not  enough  that  this  boy  who  was  not 
his,  by  keeping  before  his  eyes  the  perfect 
realisation  of  all  that  he  had  desired  in  his 
own  son,  seemed  always  to  mock  him  ;  but 
he  must  needs  come  between  him  and  that 
son,  such  as  he  was,  and  steal  the  affections 
that  were  his  by  every  right,  and  add  to  the 
wealth  of  love  lavished  on  him  by  his  own 
kinsfolk.  Truly,  '  to  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given,  and  from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be 
taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath.'  It 
was  by  a  law  as  natural  as  that  of  gravitation 
that  the  ewe-lamb  was  added  to  the  flocks 


ix  TIM  201 

and  herds  of  the  rich  man,  and  the  wonder 
is  that  Nathan  should  have  seen  anything 
odd  in  the  arrangement.  Still  this  is  a  hard 
saying,  and  a  view  of  matters  that  has 
seemed  unjust  to  generations  of  men,  from 
the  prophet  down  to  William  Ebbesley,  who 
certainly  needed  and  would  have  appreciated 
a  little  affection  far  more  than  the  fortunate 
Carol.  In  fact,  he  was  jealous  ;  and  strange 
as  it  may  seem  that  a  father  should  be  jealous 
of  his  son's  friends,  it  is  by  no  means  so  rare 
a  thing  as  might  be  supposed.  No  parent 
can  help  a  certain  humiliation  and  annoyance 
at  the  thought  of  a  child's  undoubted  pre 
ference  of  another  to  himself.  Many  people 
under  these  circumstances  make  the  grievous 
mistake  of  trying  to  separate  their  sons  from 
the  objects  of  their  jealousy,  but  in  no  case 
is  this  treatment  successful.  Some  lads  turn 
sulky  under  it,  and  nurse  bitter  feelings  in 
secret,  while  others  break  out  into  open 
defiance  and  rebellion,  when  all  sorts  of 
trouble  ensue.  Of  course  the  parents  do 


202  TIM  CHAP. 

not  admit  for  a  moment  that  it  is  jealousy 
that  prompts  their  course  ;  there  are  always 
admirable  reasons  why  the  objectionable 
person  is  not  a  good  friend  for  their  off 
spring.  Mr.  Ebbesley  would  probably  have 
repudiated  with  scorn  the  idea  of  his  being 
jealous  of  Tim's  affection  for  Carol  Darley, 
but  it  galled  and  irritated  him  none  the  less ; 
until  he  had  come  to  entertain  such  a  hearty 
dislike  of  his  young  neighbour  as  he  would 
have  been  slow  to  acknowledge  even  to 
himself.  He  did  not  consider  how  little 
pains  he  had  taken  to  secure  the  gift  which 
he  grudged  to  another ;  in  his  own  way  he 
loved  his  son  strongly,  but  not  having  found 
him  such  as  he  had  hoped,  he  could  not  give 
him  that  approving  affection  which  alone 
conveys  the  idea  of  love  to  a  child's  mind. 
All  the  same,  it  did  not  strike  him  as  any 
thing  less  than  reasonable  to  expect  that  the 
boy  should  be  intuitively  aware  of  this  hidden 
love  of  his,  and  respond  to  it  as  warmly  as 
though  it  were  expressed.  He  knew  he  had 


ix  TIM  203 

the  feeling,  but  did  not  reflect  that  he  never 
showed  it.  And  though  Tim  was  as  far  from 
guessing  his  father's  real  sentiments  with 
regard  to  his  friend  as  he  was  from  divining 
his  love  for  himself,  he  felt  instinctively, 
though  dimly,  that  the  subject  of  Carol  was 
not  a  welcome  one  to  Mr.  Ebbesley,  and  that 
he  would  therefore  do  well,  without  actually 
disguising  the  fact  of  his  intimacy  with  him, 
to  see  him  quietly,  and  talk  of  him  as  little  as 
possible.  And  this  was  not  a  difficult  course 
to  pursue,  as  Mr.  Ebbesley  rarely  encouraged 
much  conversation  from  him  on  any  subject, 
and  still  more  rarely  made  any  inquiries  as  to 
where,  how,  or  with  whom  he  spent  his  time 
when  they  were  apart. 

But  on  this  particular  afternoon  he 
seemed,  as  I  have  said,  so  kind,  and  Tim 
was  feeling  so  warmly  towards  him,  and 
everything  was  working  so  well  towards 
the  gratification  of  his  wish  to  be  off  to  the 
Court  in  time  for  the  promised  walk,  that  he 
said  in  the  lightness  of  his  heart,  *  I  am 


204  TIM  CHAP. 

glad  you  had  no  business  in  Granthurst, 
father.' 

'  Why  so  ? '  asked  his  father,  wondering  in 
his  own  mind  if  he  were  going  to  suggest 
their  doing  anything  together,  and  deter 
mined  beforehand  to  accede  to  any  such 
proposition,  even  though  he  had  to  put  off 
looking  over  the  law-papers  he  had  brought 
down  with  him  till  the  next  day. 

'Well,  you  see,  I  was  to  have  gone  a 
walk  with  Carol  Darley  yesterday,  but  there 
were  people  calling  at  the  Court,  and  he  had 
to  go  back  with  them,  so  we  couldn't  have 
our  walk.  And  he  said  we  might  go  this 
afternoon,  but  I  wasn't  sure  if  I  should  be 
back  in  time ;  if  you'd  had  to  stay  in  Grant- 
hurst  it  would  have  made  it  too  late.  So  we 
left  it  open.  It  was  to  depend  on  that. 
That's  why  I  wanted  to  know  if  you  were 
coming  straight  home.  I'm  awfully  glad.' 

It  was  one  of  Mr.  Ebbesley's  idiosyn 
crasies  that  he  always  paused  before  answer 
ing  any  one  just  long  enough  to  make  his 


ix  TIM  205 

interlocutor  feel  awkwardly  uncertain  whether 
he  .had  heard  or  not ;  so  that  Tim,  who  was 
accustomed  to  his  ways,  was  not  for  a  moment 
or  two  surprised  at  his  silence. 

When  he  did  speak  it  was  to  say  slowly,  and 
in  a  voice  from  which  all  traces  either  of  affec 
tion  or  resentment  were  equally  removed— 

'  You  say  you  were  at  Darley  Court  yester 
day  ;  am  I  to  understand  that  you  wish  to  go 
there  again  to-day  ? ' 

Tim  looked  up  quickly,  and  was  startled 
at  the  hard  expression  on  his  father's  face. 

(Yes,'  he  stammered;  'I  thought,  I 
meant ' 

'  I  think  you  will  be  in  the  way,'  Mr. 
Ebbesley  continued,  in  the  same  measured 
tones.  '  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darley  cannot  want 
you  perpetually  about  the  house.' 

'  But  most  likely  I  should  not  see  any  of 
them,'  Tim  protested  eagerly.  '  I  am  only 
going  to  see  Carol ;  it  was  quite  by  accident 
that  he  happened  to  be  in  the  drawing-room 
yesterday  when  I  went.' 


206  TIM  CHAI-. 

'  I  should  think  he  too  could  exist  without 
seeing  you  every  day,'  said  his  father  sharply, 
and  then  relapsing  into  stateliness,  he  added, 
'  I  disapprove  of  such  violent  intimacies, 
especially  with  people  with  whom  I  am  not 
intimate  myself.' 

It  flashed  across  Tim  that  if  his  intimacies 
were  to  be  regulated  by  his  father's,  their 
number  would  indeed  be  limited.  But  he 
swallowed  this  repartee  and  made  one 
despairing  effort.  '  But  he  asked  me  to 
come,  and  I  said  I  would.  I  will  not  go 
again  if  you  don't  like  me  to ' 

*  I  desire,'  said  Mr.  Ebbesley,  in  a  way 
that  put  an  end  to  all  further  discussion  of 
the  subject,  '  that  you  will  not  go  to  the 
Court  this  afternoon.  That  is  enough.' 

No  word  of  why  he  wanted  him  to  stay  at 
the  manor-house,  of  regret  that  he  should 
wish  to  leave  him  on  the  first  afternoon  that 
they  were  together  after  so  long  a  separa 
tion  ;  he  was  too  proud  to  show  his  own  child 
how  much  he  needed  his  affection.  Nothing 


ix  TIM  207 

could  be  farther  from  Tim's  imagination  than 
that  his  father  should  wish  to  keep  him  near 
himself,  or  have  any  desire  for  his  company. 
Probably  one  indication  of  a  human  motive, 
even  a  jealous  or  selfish  one,  that  had  its 
root  in  love,  would  have  brought  them  closer 
together  than  anything  had  ever  done  yet, 
but  it  was  foreign  to  William  Ebbesley's 
nature  to  make  such  a  sign ;  he  believed 
himself  to  be  actuated  by  entirely  impersonal 
considerations,  or  at  least  he  wished  to  be 
lieve  so,  and  was  determined  that  his  son 
should,  whether  he  did  or  not.  So  Tim's 
flutterings  of  love  and  joy  born  of  a  summer's 
morning  were  chilled  back  upon  his  heart, 
and  he  sat  in  silence  for  the  rest  of  the  drive 
sore  and  resentful,  and  escaped  as  soon  as 
they  reached  home  to  cry  in  his  own  room 
alone  with  Bess.  Carol,  concluding  that  he 
had  not  got  back  in  time,  visited  the  old  mill 
and  the  new  cart-road  by  himself,  whistling 
as  he  went. 

This  was  Mr.  Ebbesley's  first  act  of  open 


208  TIM  CHAP,  ix 

hostility  to  the  friendship  between  the  lads, 
and  it  was  the  beginning  of  much  pain  and 
heart-burning  to  Tim,  serving  to  widen  the 
distance  between  him  and  his  father  con 
siderably. 


CHAPTER   X 

Oh  let  the  solid  ground 

Not  fail  beneath  my  feet 
Before  my  life  has  found 

What  some  have  found  so  sweet. 

TENNYSON'S  Maud. 

TIM'S  career  at  Eton,  after  it  became  more 
prosperous,  offers  nothing  of  much  interest 
to  the  general  public,  his  relations  with  the 
various  good  people  who  befriended  him 
having  nothing  to  do  with  this  story,  which 
is  the  history  of  his  friendship  for  Carol,  and 
for  no  one  else.  We  must  not  suppose, 
however,  that  he  had  no  other  friends.  He 
was  not  of  the  very  successful  type,  but  he 
made  several  very  fast  and  true  ones  at  this 
period  of  his  life.  His  tutor  was  very  fond 
of  him,  and  more  than  one  boy  among  his 

p 


210  TIM  CHAP. 

schoolfellows  asked  him  to  visit  him  in  the 
holidays,  which  is  the  highest  mark  of  esteem 
that  young  gentlemen  at  that  age  can  confer. 
His  father  would  have  liked  him  to  go,  but 
Tim  would  accept  none  of  these  invitations, 
feeling  how  unlike  the  homes  his  friends  de 
scribed  to  him — abodes  of  mothers  and  sisters 
and  ponies,  and  such  good  things — were  to 
the  lonely  old  manor-house,  and  not  caring 
to  invite  their  inspection  of  his  own  interior 
in  return.  Still  he  felt  the  kindness  of  the 
intention,  and  was  as  placidly  contented  as 
he  could  be  in  a  place  where  Carol  had  been, 
and  was  not ;  for  in  spite  of  new  ties  and 
interests,  above  and  below  all  other  friend 
ships  or  affections,  his  life-devotion  held  its 
undiminished  sway.  He  corresponded  regu 
larly  with  Carol,  according  to  his  promise, 
telling  him  all  the  gossip  of  the  old  place,  so 
interesting  to  those  who  have  grown  up  in 
that  queer  nursery,  so  inscrutably  dull  to  all 
besides.  Many  a  detail  of  cricket  or  fives 
news  was  mastered  by  the  indefatigable  Tim, 


x  TIM  211 

though  he  took  but  a  slender  concern  in  such 
matters  on  his  own  account,  because  he  knew 
they  would  be  of  interest  to  Carol,  who  on 
his  side  declared  our  hero  the  best  of  corre 
spondents,  and  supplied  him  in  return  with 
descriptions  of  Cambridge,  or,  if  at  Darley, 
with  constant  bulletins  of  the  health  of  Bess. 

'  Bess  is  renewing  her  youth,'  he  would 
write ;  '  there  is  not  a  rabbit  but  goes  in  fear 
for  his  life  in  all  Stoke  Ashton  parish.  Mrs. 
Ouitchett  seems  to  have  borrowed  the  other 
old  lady's  receipt,  not  for  rabbit-hunting,  but 
•for  looking  young.  In  your  absence,  she 
hails  me  with  pleasure,  as  some  one  to  whom 
to  talk  of  you.' 

Or  from  Cambridge :  (  Do  you  want  to 
know  what  I  am  about  ?  I  walk  a  great 
deal — to  stretch  my  legs,  wrhich  you  may 
think  do  not  require  it — not  to  see  the 
country,  which  a  fellow  here,  who  never  said 
anything  else  good  that  I  know  of,  said  one 
could  do  by  putting  on  a  pair  of  high-heeled 
boots.  I  read  a  fairish  amount,  and  play 


212  TIM  CHAP. 

lots  of  tennis.  Do  you  know  what  a  bisque 
is  ?  or  that  half  thirty  is  not  the  same  as 
fifteen  ?  In  the  evenings  I  have  taken 
violently  to  whist,  and  have  once  or  twice 
ventured  on  more  exciting  games,  but  don't 
feel  inclined  to  become  a  professional  gambler 
yet  awhile.  Next  winter  I  think  I  shall  keep 
a  horse.  It  isn't  half  a  bad  life,  and  there 
are  lots  of  awfully  jolly  fellows  ;  but  I  miss  the 
old  school  more  than  I  can  say,  and  am  still 
more  than  half  inclined  to  blub  when  I  think 
of  it.  What  shall  I  do  next  half  without 
Upper  Club  ?  I  don't  believe  playing  for  the 
University  will  at  all  console  me.' 

Not  very  deep  perhaps,  but  frank,  boyish, 
jolly  letters,  with  a  sensation  as  of  fresh  air 
blowing  through  them.  I  have  a  pile  of 
them  from  which  I  could  quote,  all  much  in 
the  same  style.  Years  afterwards  they  were 
found,  oh !  how  carefully  preserved,  and  tied 
together  in  little  bundles,  with  now  only  the 
date  of  their  receipt,  now  some  tender  com 
ment  carefully  affixed  in  Tim's  youthful  scrawl. 


x  TIM  213 

The  neatness  of  their  arrangement  had 
something  specially  touching  about  it,  tidi 
ness  not  being  as  a  general  rule  by  any 
means  a  distinguishing  characteristic  of  their 
recipient. 

As  may  readily  be  imagined,  Tim's  per 
sistence  in  his  intimacy  with  Carol  did  not 
tend  to  increase  the  comfort  of  his  relations 
with  his  father.  Mr.  Ebbesley  was  not  a 
man  of  many  words ;  but  neither  was  it 
difficult  to  see  of  what  he  disapproved,  and 
in  the  present  case,  without  parading  his 
sentiments,  he  took  no  pains  to  conceal  them. 
During  the  autumn  and  winter  that  followed 
the  conversation  recorded  in  the  last  chapter 
he  confined  himself  to  little  sneers  and 
sarcasms  when  Carol's  name  happened  to 
be  mentioned  in  his  presence,  which  Tim 
took  care  should  be  as  seldom  as  possible. 
But  the  very  carefulness  of  this  avoidance 
was  in  itself  a  cause  of  constraint.  How 
could  the  boy  be  at  ease  with  his  father 
when  all  his  most  sacred  feelings  clustered 


214  TIM  CHAP. 

round  an  object  of  which  he  felt  it  better 
never  to  speak  to  him  ?  To  live  in  tacit 
defiance  of  an  unexpressed  desire  of  one's 
nearest  relative  does  not  conduce  to  a  com 
fortable  state  of  things. 

It  was  in  the t  first  Easter  holidays  after 
the  August  day  when  Fate,  in  the  shape  01 
Miss  Markham  Willis,  had  first  crossed  the 
path  of  the  two  friends,  that,  Carol  having 
gone  back  to  Cambridge  before  Tim's  return 
to  Eton,  the  latter  was  one  day  diligently 
scribbling  his  budget  of  home  news  in  the 
old  manor  library  where  he  had  lain  asleep 
the  day  his  father's  letter  had  come  to  Mrs. 
Quitchett.  (What  the  news  was  I  am  not 
in  a  position  to  tell  you,  because,  you  see, 
though  I  can  refer  to  every  line  Carol  wrote 
to  Tim,  I  have  not  the  same  advantage  as 
regards  Tim's  answers.)  So  immersed  was 
he  in  his  writing,  and  in  the  mental  effort  of 
omitting  nothing  Carol  would  like  to  be  told, 
that  he  did  not  hear  the  door  open,  nor 
observe  that  any  one  had  come  in,  till  he 


x  TIM  215 

was  startled  by  a  shadow  falling  on  the 
paper,  and  looking  up,  was  somewhat  alarmed 
to  find  his  father  standing  before  him  with 
an  expression  which  was  anything  rather 
than  amiable.  Mr.  Ebbesley  had  been 
vexed  about  something,  and  was  in  a  mood 
for  finding  fault. 

'  Always  scribbling,'  he  began  ;  '  it's  really 
a  sin  not  to  be  out  this  lovely  day.' 

He  was  not  as  a  rule  keenly  susceptible 
to  the  beauty  of  the  weather,  and  his  remark 
therefore  rather  surprised  his  son. 

'  I  was  out  all  the  morning,'  he  said. 

'  Where  ? '  asked  his  father. 

'  Oh !  up  above  Beech  Farm,  in  the  Court 
woods,'  and  Tim  blushed  a  little  as  he  spoke. 
The  fact  was  he  had  been  making  one  of  his 
pilgrimages  to  the  sacred  spot  where  his 
dinner  with  the  squirrel  had  been  interrupted 
so  many  years  before. 

'  In  the  Court  woods,'  repeated  Mr. 
Ebbesley  crossly;  'really  I'm  ashamed  of 
you.  Not  content  with  dangling  eternally 


216  TIM  CHAP. 

about  after  that  turnip-eating  young  embryo 
squire  the  whole  time  he's  here,  you  must 
needs  make  yourself  ridiculous  by  hanging 
about  his  house  and  grounds  like  a  senti 
mental  girl  when  he's  away.' 

'You  shan't  call  Carol  names,'  Tim 
answered  hotly,  the  faint  blood  in  his  cheeks 
suddenly  crimsoning  them  all  over ;  '  he's  the 

best  and There,  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  I 

know  I  oughtn't  to  speak  so  to  you,  but  I 
couldn't  help  it.  Say  what  you  like  about 
me,  but  please  don't  sneer  at  him.' 

'  I  am  sure  he  would  be  delighted  if  he 
knew  what  a  champion  he  had  in  you  ;  don't 
you  see  that  the  fellow  doesn't  want  you  ? 
You  must  bore  him.' 

1  You've  no  right  to  say  he  doesn't  want 
me,'  the  boy  flashed  out  again  ;  '  it's  not  true  ; 
and — and — I  think  he's  the  best  judge  of 
whether  he  wants  me  or  not.' 

He  was  quivering  all  over,  but  his  father 
took  no  more  notice  of  this  outbreak  than  of 
the  former  one. 


x  TIM  217 

'I've  no  doubt,'  he  went  on,  motioning 
slightly  towards  the  unfinished  letter,  '  that 
it's  to  him  you've  been  writing  all  this  trash. 
It  seems  to  me  that  you  waste  a  good  deal 
of  your  time  and  my  paper  in  supplying 
pipe-lighters  for  unknown  undergraduates.' 

'  What  is  it  you  want  me  to  do  ? '  asked 
Tim  hopelessly. 

'  You  know  quite  well  what  my  wishes 
are  :  that  I  disapprove  of  violent  intimacies 
and  long  letter-writing.  Why  can't  you  be 
friends  with  this  very  commonplace  young 
man  as  other  people  are  friends,  without 
all  this  foolish  fuss  ?  I  don't  want  you  to 
waste  all  your  time  in  writing  sentimental 
letters  ;  it  is  enervating  ;  and  Heaven  knows 
you  don't  require  that' 

Tim  stood  white  and  uncertain,  biting  his 
pen.  'You  want  me  to  give  Carol  up,'  he 
said. 

'  That  is  so  like  you,'  said  Mr.  Ebbesley ; 
'  you  make  such  a  tragedy  of  everything  ; 
who  talks  of  giving  up  ?  I  only  ask  you  for 


218  TIM  CHAP. 

once  to  show  a  little  common  sense,  and  not 
eternally  to  go  on  being  a  baby.  Why  can 
you  never  be  like  other  boys  about  anything, 
I  wonder  ? ' 

Tim  wondered  that  too  ;  he  also  wondered 
whether  it  would  be  worth  while  to  try  and 
make  his  father  understand  that  his  letters 
were  not  '  sentimental,'  as  he  called  them. 
For  a  minute  he  half  felt  inclined  to  ask  him 
to  read  the  one  on  the  table  between  them, 
but  he  recollected  all  sorts  of  little  simple 
sayings  and  phrases  that  he  would  not  for 
the  world  submit  to  the  sarcastic  perusal  of 
his  father's  double  eyeglass.  He  knew  per 
fectly  well  that  to  continue  on  terms  of  cool 
acquaintance  with  Carol,  always  guarding 
every  word  and  action  for  fear  it  was  too 
intimate,  and  not  writing  to  him  after  pro 
mising  to  do  so,  was  simply  impossible  ;  but 
he  knew  too  that  it  was  hopeless  to  make 
his  father  see  this  as  he  saw  it.  No.  What 
he  meant  him  to  do  was  simply  to  give  up 
his  friend,  and  he  felt  a  dull  feeling  of  anger 


x  TIM  219 

and  defiance  at  what  he  considered  his  dis 
ingenuous  way  of  putting  himself  more  or 
less  in  the  right  by  all  this  talk  about 
'common  sense'  and  'ordinary  friendship.' 
He  determined  to  call  things  by  their  right 
names,  and  since  his  father  did  not  like  his 
speaking  of  what  he  required  of  him  as 
'giving  up  Carol,'  he  would  do  it  again. 

'  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  obey  you,'  he  said 
slowly  ;  '  I  think  one  should  never  give  up  a 
friend  unless  for  his  own  good.' 

'  Oh  !  in  that  case  you  think  you  should  ? ' 
inquired  his  father,  with  an  ironical  appearance 
of  interest. 

'  Yes ;  if  one  loved  a  person  truly,  one 
would  do  anything  for  him  ;  even  give  him 
up,'  answered  Tim  quite  simply. 

Mr.  Ebbesley  fairly  lost  patience.  '  Don't 
you  know  I  could  make  you  do  this  if  I 
chose  ? '  he  said  almost  fiercely  ;  perhaps  the 
words  '  if  one  loved  a  person  truly  '  had  galled 
his  wound  a  little.  But  he  relapsed  into  his 
manner  of  carefully  assumed  indifference  to 


220  TIM  CHAP. 

add,  '  I  prefer,  however,  to  leave  you  free  to 
find  out  that  I  am  right  by  experience ;  I 
have  warned  you,  and  you  will  not  be  warned  ; 
you  know  my  wishes,  but  since  you  refuse  to 
be  guided  by  them  you  shall  please  yourself.' 
And  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 

Tim  stood  with  the  unfinished  letter  in 
his  hand  staring  blankly  after  him.  Why 
was  the  only  thing  his  father  had  ever  asked 
of  him  the  only  thing  he  could  not  do  ?  He 
sank  back  into  his  chair  and  covered  his  face 
with  the  letter.  '  Oh !  Carol/  he  moaned, 
'  will  you  cast  me  off  some  day  after  this  ? ' 

It  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  father  or 
son  suffered  more  keenly  after  this  interview. 
Tim,  to  be  sure,  had  carried  his  point,  but  his 
laurels  were  dear  bought,  and  some  victories, 
as  we  know,  are  almost  more  disastrous  than 
defeats  ;  and  then  Mr.  Ebbesley  had  the 
pleasant  certainty  that  he  was  right,  which 
was  his  consolation  in  many  of  the  hard 
knocks  of  life.  He  sincerely  believed  him 
self  actuated  by  none  but  the  very  highest 


X  TIM  221 

motives,  and,  moreover,  considered  that  he 
had  displayed  remarkable  temper  and  modera 
tion  under  very  trying  circumstances.  None 
the  less  he  had  been  defied  and  bested, 
refused  what  he  had  almost  stooped  to  ask, 
and  had  flat  disobedience  and  revolt  opposed 
to  his  expressed  wishes.  He  had  impru 
dently  risked  a  trial  of  strength  with  Carol, 
and  been  thrown.  Not  only  had  he  less 
hold  on  his  son's  affections,  but  actually  less 
power  over  his  actions  than  this  youth  who 
cared,  he  was  convinced,  so  little  for  either 
one  or  the  other.  He  felt  sore  and  injured, 
and  Tim  supremely  miserable,  for  some  time  ; 
days  during  which  they  met  and  lived  together 
as  usual,  and  tried  with  very  poor  success 
to  behave  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
Tim  continued  to  write  to  Carol,  but  he  did 
so  henceforth  in  his  room,  and  carried  his 
letters  to  the  post  himself,  not  from  a  desire 
to  conceal  the  fact  from  his  father,  but  only 
to  avoid  a  recurrence  of  the  painful  scene  in 
the  library ;  and  indeed  it  had  no  successors. 


222  TIM  CHAP. 

Mr.  Ebbesley  had  delivered  himself  of  his 
views,  and  thereafter  the  grave  was  not  more 
silent ;  the  subject  of  Carol  was  no  more 
mentioned  between  him  and  his  son.  And 
Tim  wrote  no  word  of  what  had  happened 
to  Carol.  In  the  first  place,  he  would  have 
died  a  thousand  deaths  sooner  than  say  a 
word  that  could  distress  him,  and  in  the 
second,  he  was  far  too  proud  to  let  even  his 
best  friend  into  the  secret  of  his  disagreement 
with  his  father.  His  letters  flowed  on  in  their 
usual  channel,  and  if  they  were  a  little 
lacking  in  spirit,  their  recipient  was  by  no 
means  an  observant  critic,  and  least  of  all 
just  then,  being,  as  we  shall  see,  much  pre 
occupied  with  affairs  of  his  own. 

For,  if  Tim's  letters  were  unchanged, 
Carol's  certainly  were  not.  There  crept  into 
them  about  this  time  a  quite  new  and  strange 
tone,  which  did  not  pass  unnoticed  by  his  young 
correspondent.  It  would  bedifiicult  to  describe 
exactly  what  it  was  ;  but  chance  remarks  scat 
tered  up  and  down,  together  with  a  certain  ab- 


x  TIM  223 

stract  and  speculative  turn  of  sentence  quite 
foreign  to  the  young  man's  usual  style,  would 
have  indicated  pretty  clearly  to  any  one  but  a 
baby  what  was  the  matter  with  the  writer. 
'  I  feel/  he  wrote,  '  that  I  am  approaching  a 
turning-point  in  my  life,  which  will  make  me 
either  very  happy  or  very  miserable  ;  and  I 
feel  too  that  it  is  for  life.'  And  elsewhere 
he  congratulated  Tim  on  being  '  still  of  an 
age  when  he  was  not  likely  to  know  what  it 
was  to  care  more  for  one  person  than  for  all 
the  rest  of  the  world,'  at  which  his  friend 
smiled  a  little  sadly,  thinking  that  he  did. 
There  are  no  notes  on  these  letters  in  Tim's 
handwriting,  only  the  date  ;  probably  they 
puzzled  the  boy  not  a  little. 

That  Carol  was  not  quite  himself  seemed 
pretty  clear ;  then  it  dawned  upon  him  that 
his  state  of  mind  indicated  strong  affection 
for  some  one,  and  almost  simultaneously  he 
arrived  at  the  chilling  conviction  that  that  some 
one  was  certainly  not  himself.  He  hardly 
knew  how  to  reply  to  these  strange  unfamiliar 


224  TIM  CHAP. 

letters  ;  no  doubt  he  thought  he  was  expected 
to  make  some  sign  of  sympathy  or  interest, 
but  with  the  vague  and  fragmentary  know 
ledge  he  possessed,  he  felt  it  impossible  to 
do  so.  In  one  way  he  was  undoubtedly  the 
gainer  by  this  mystery.  At  no  previous  time 
had  Carol  ever  written,  not  only  so  regularly, 
but  so  often  ;  hardly  a  week  passed  without 
his  hearing  from  him,  and  usually  at  some 
length.  Still  he  felt  uneasily  that  something 
was  wrong  ;  and  when  at  the  end  of  the 
Cambridge  May  term  his  friend  wrote  that 
he  was  coming  down  to  Eton  for  a  day  or  two, 
he  was  glad  not  only  with  the  joy  of  meeting 
again,  but  almost  more  so  at  the  opportunity 
thus  afforded  to  him  of  judging  if  his  voice, 
look,  or  manner  were  in  keeping  with  the 
strangeness  of  his  epistolary  style.  And  yet 
he  half  feared  to  see  in  him  the  probable  con 
firmation  of  his  suspicions  of  something  being 
wrong. 

When  Carol  did  come,  his  behaviour  was 
even  stranger  than  his  writing.      Instead  of 


x  TIM  225 

launching  himself  out  on  to  the  pavement 
over  the  closed  door  of  his  fly  the  moment 
it  drew  up  in  front  of  tutor's,  and  sending  a 
flying  glance  up  the  house-front  for  any  friends 
who  might  be  on  the  look-out,  as  was  his 
usual  custom,  followed  by  a  tremendous  shout 
if  his  eye  caught  a  familiar  face,  Tim,  who 
was  watching  from  his  window,  was  amazed 
to  see  him  sit  meekly  while  the  driver 
descended  from  his  box  and  opened  the  door, 
and  then  inquire  what  he  owed  him,  as  though 
he  had  just  taken  the  drive  from  Slough 
Station  to  Eton  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
And  having  paid  the  man,  who  had  driven 
him  any  time  these  seven  years,  and  was  too 
much  astonished  even  to  overcharge  him,  he 
walked  into  the  house  without  once  looking 
up.  Tim  sat  down  and  stared.  What  did  it  all 
mean  ?  Nor  had  he  less  cause  to  wonder 
when  Carol  came  up  to  visit  him  ;  he  greeted 
him  with  more  than  ordinary  cordiality,  and 
then  laughed  a  little,  and  then  seemed  to 
forget  his  existence,  becoming  absorbed  in 

Q 


226  TIM  CHAP. 

a  minute  inspection  of  everything  in  the 
room,  as  if  he  had  never  seen  it  before. 

1  Holker  isn't  going  to  play  in  the  next 
match,'  began  Tim,  producing  the  cricket 
shop  he  had  been  carefully  storing  himself 
with  for  Carol's  arrival.  '  He  missed  three 
catches  on  Tuesday,  and  as  all  his  chance  was 
for  his  fielding,  Jones  has  told  Tuttiett  he'll 
try  him.  They  say  Holker's  furious,  and 
swears  if  he  don't  get  his  eleven,  it'll  be 
because  Jones  hates  him,  and  will  be  sure  to 
spite  him  if  he  can.' 

'Who's  Jones  ?'  inquired  Carol  dreamily. 

Now  Jones  had  been  in  his  own  eleven, 
and  they  had  played  together  in  all  the  matches 
only  one  short  year  before,  not  to  mention 
that  they  had  been,  as  Tim  knew,  in  close 
correspondence  ever  since,  the  ex-captain 
giving  his  successor  the  benefit  of  his  greater 
experience  in  all  matters  relating  to  the 
government  of  the  cricket  world. 

'Who's  Jones!'  echoed  Tim  in  such 
unfeigned  surprise  that  Carol  pulled  himself 


x  TIM  227 

together,  laughed  again,  and  said  he  wasn't 
thinking. 

They  talked  about  the  eleven  for  a  little, 
but  it  was  obvious  that  the  old  boy's  heart 
was  not  as  heretofore  in  the  talk,  and  presently 
he  wandered  to  the  window,  and  began  piti 
lessly  pulling  to  pieces  one  of  Tim's  best 
fancy  geraniums.  Tim's  flower-box  was  his 
especial  pride  and  glory  ;  he  loved  and  tended 
his  flowers  as  no  other  boy  in  the  house  did, 
and  it  is  on  record  that  on  one  occasion,  when 
he  was  watering  them,  and  some  of  the  water 
had  gone  on  the  head  of  the  big  boy  in  the 
room  below,  who  happened  to  be  talking  out 
of  the  window  to  a  friend,  that  hero,  having 
come  up  breathing  vengeance,  had  been  so 
struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  little  garden  that 
he  had  sat  down  to  talk  about  it,  the  wooden 
spoon  he  had  brought  with  him  lying  idly  in 
his  lap.  Ordinarily,  Carol  would  not  for  the 
world  have  injured  one  of  these  treasures,  as 
much  from  dislike  of  giving  pain  as  from  his 
own  feeling  towards  them,  the  result  of  Miss 


228  TIM  CHAP. 

Kate's  early  training.  Tim  could  stand  it 
no  longer. 

'Carol,'  he  said,  laying  a  timid  hand  on 
the  strong  arm  that  was  working  havoc  among 
his  pelargoniums,  '  please  forgive  me  for  being 
curious,  but  isn't  there  something  up  ?  You 
don't  seem  like  yourself;  and  your  letters 
have  been  so  rum  lately.  Is  anything  wrong  ? 
Can  I  do  anything  ?  Won't  you  tell  me 
what's  the  matter  ? ' 

Carol  turned  and  looked  at  him  ;  then  he 
took  his  hand  and  said  gently— 

'  By  Jove,  Tim,  what  a  clever  little  soul 
you  are  !  fancy  your  noticing  like  that.  Shall 
I  tell  you  ?  After  all,  I'd  sooner  tell  you 
than  any  one  ;  you've  always  been  the  best 
and  truest  friend  a  fellow  ever  had,  though 
there's  so  much  difference  in  our  ages/ 

Tim  was  gratified.  '  You've  always  been 
so  good  to  me,  Carol,'  he  said,  'and  I  don't 
care  much  for  many  people.' 

'  Can  you  keep  a  secret?'  asked  his  friend; 
'  for  it  is  a  secret  at  present.' 


x  TIM  229 

The  tortures  of  the  Inquisition,  Tim  pro 
tested,  should  not  draw  a  word  from  him,  when 
Carol  had  bid  him  be  silent  ;  and  then  out 
it  all  came. 

'  Why  shouldn't  he  tell  him  ?  He  might 
think  it  odd  of  him  to  do  so,  but  tell  some  one 
he  must,  and  the  fact  was,  to  cut  a  long  story 
short,  he  was  in  love.  He  remembered  Miss 
Markham  Willis — Violet  ? '  (Yes,  Tim  remem 
bered  her,  and  with  her  a  whole  train  of  old 
apprehensions.)  'Well,  she  was  the  girl  he 
was  in  love  with,  and  she  was  the  loveliest  girl 
in  all  England,  and  the  kindest  to  her  little 
brothers  and  sisters,  and,  in  fact,  the  most  peer 
less  in  all  the  relations  of  life  ;  and  he  knew 
every  one  would  say  they  were  too  young,  but 
he  knew  what  love  was,  and  he  saw  now  that 
he  had  loved  her  ever  since  they  first  met,  and 
he  should  never  feel  the  same  for  any  one 
else,  and  Tim  wasn't  to  say  a  word  about  it.' 

Standing  there  opposite  to  him,  holding 
his  hands,  his  honest  blue  eyes  wet  with 
emotion,  and  his  voice  that  Tim  had  heard 


230  TIM  CHAP. 

always  firm,  and  sometimes  loud,  trembling 
as  he  made  the  confession  of  his  young  love, 
there  was  something  beautiful  and  touching 
in  the  great  strong  boy  ;  he  seemed  to  have 
lost  all  his  masterfulness,  and  to  be  quite  meek 
and  uncertain  of  himself  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life.  And  Tim,  part  frightened,  and  part 
regretful,  and  part  gratified  at  having  been 
selected  as  confidant  on  so  important  an 
occasion,  promised  silence, — would  have 
promised  anything,  in  fact,  that  Carol  had 
demanded, — and  Carol,  the  floodgates  of  his 
silence  being  burst  at  last,  and  the  tide  of  his 
feelings  finding  free  vent,  went  on  and  said 
much  more. 

Violet  and  her  mother  had  been  staying  at 
Cambridge  for  the  May  week  with  some  Head 
of  a  college  who  was  their  kinsman,  and  Carol 
had  been  bound,  in  common  politeness,  to  do 
the  honours  of  his  University  to  his  country 
neighbours  ;  so  that  was  how  matters  had 
come  to  a  crisis  with  him,  and  the  conviction 
had  been  borne  in  upon  him  in  the  intervals 


x  TIM  231 

of  boat-races,  flower-shows,  and  dancing  that 
for  him  there  was  and  would  always  be  but 
one  woman  in  the  world. 

'And  does  she — does  she — ?'  inquired 
Tim  discreetly. 

'Ah  !  there's  where  it  is,'  cried  the  other  ; 
*  I  think,  I  really  think  she  likes  me,  but  I 
didn't  dare  speak  ;  it  seemed  as  if  it  couldn't 
be  possible  such  a  girl  should  really  care  for 
me.' 

'  Not  care  for  you  I '  exclaimed  Tim  almost 
angrily,  and  then  he  stopped,  much  em 
barrassed. 

'  Oh,  you  are  such  a  staunch  little  friend  ! ' 
said  Carol ;  '  you  think  much  too  well  of  me, 
don't  you  know.' 

But  for  all  that  he  was  cheered  by  his 
friend's  enthusiasm ;  and  the  mere  fact  of 
having  unburthened  himself  to  patient  and 
sympathetic  ears  sent  him  off  more  nearly 
restored  to  his  normal  frame  of  mind,  to  dis 
cuss  the  new  choices  with  Jones,  quite  like  a 
sane  mortal. 


232  TIM  CHAP. 

So  Carol  and  Violet  fell  in  love  ;  for  it 
was  not  many  weeks  after  this  that  he  found 
the  courage  he  had  lacked  at  Cambridge,  and 
his  modest  '  thinking  she  liked  him '  was 
converted  into  triumphant  certainty.  They 
were  absurdly  young  of  course.  Violet  was 
only  seventeen  and  Carol  not  yet  twenty 
when  they  first  discovered  they  were  made 
for  one  another,  and  mutually  imparted  this 
intelligence,  as,  I  am  told,  is  the  manner  of 
young  people.  Of  course,  too,  the  old  people, 
as  is  their  manner,  scouted  the  notion,  and 
said,  '  Nonsense  ;  boy  and  girl ;  too  young  to 
think  of  such  things.'  But  the  tendency  of 
boys  and  girls  being  to  get  their  way  in 
matters  of  this  sort,  in  spite  of  much  more 
severe  elders  than  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Markham 
Willis,  or  the  dear  old  Darleys,  a  compromise 
was  at  last  effected.  In  two  years,  when 
Carol  left  the  University,  if  he  and  Violet 
were  still  of  the  same  mind  the  thing  should 
be  ;  but  in  the  meanwhile  they  were  not  to  be 
considered  engaged,  and  not  to  correspond, — 


x  TIM  233 

a  very  wise  decision,  as  it  seems  to  me,  and 
one  that  reflected  credit  on  all  concerned. 
So  these  two  were  to  wait,  as  so  many 
others  have  done,  and  as  they  could  well 
afford  to  do  at  their  age,  having  life  be 
fore  them,  and  youth,  and  good  looks,  and 
high  spirits  to  cheer  them  through  their 
waiting. 

Tim  was  installed  as  prime  confidant,  and 
to  him  Carol  told  or  wrote  all  his  hopes  and 
fears.  When  the  compromise  was  extracted 
from  the  old  people,  he  came  radiant  to  the 
manor-house,  and  finding  Tim  alone  in  the 
garden,  poured  out  all  his  golden  dream  to 
him. 

'  Two  years  were  quite  a  short  time  to 
wait ;  many  people  had  to  wait  half  their  lives. 
He  would  serve  for  Violet  as  long  as  Jacob 
had  for  Rachel,  if  need  were  ;  and  wasn't  it 
grand  of  her  to  promise  to  wait  for  him  ? 
though  of  course  he  could  not  accept  such 
a  promise,  and  had  quite  refused  to  bind 
her.' 


234  TIM  CHAP. 

Tim  listened  to  it  all,  now  and  then 
squeezing  his  friend's  hand  in  token  of 
sympathy  and  attention  ;  luckily  he  was  not 
expected  to  say  much,  for  he  would  have  been 
rather  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  His  mind  was 
travelling  one  year  back  to  the  day  when  he 
had  gone  up  to  the  Court  and  found  Violet 
installed  in  the  drawing-room  there  ;  all  the 

O  ' 

thoughts  so  vague  and  unintelligible  to  him 
then  had  taken  form  and  substance  ;  now  he 
understood  what  the  shadow  was  that  had 
fallen  across  his  path  that  day  ;  that  thing  he 
had  dimly  guessed  at  had  come  upon  him,  and 
it  was  to  him  that  Carol  looked  for  rejoicing 
in  his  joy.  Of  course  he  did  rejoice,  and  felt 
delighted  that  this  new  experience  of  his  idol 
seemed  only  to  bring  them  nearer  together 
instead  of  separating  them  ;  but  was  it  really 
so?  It  is  true,  he  saw  more  of  him  than  he 
had  ever  done  before,  and  when  he  went  away 
again,  heard  from  him  oftener ;  but  the  talks 
and  the  letters  were  full  of  Violet,  and  of 
Violet  only;  she  was  the  cause  of  it  all.  If 


x  TIM  235 

Carol  desired  his  society,  it  was  that  to  him 
better  than  any  one  he  could  discourse  of  her 
perfections  ;  if  he  wrote  nearly  every  day,  it 
was  that  he  was  not  allowed  to  write  to  her, 
and  the  next  best  thing  was  writing  about  her. 
Tim  was  useful  only  as  the  safety-valve 
which  allowed  him  to  let  off  some  of  the 
enthusiasm  with  which  he  was  overflowing. 
He  would  have  liked  to  cry  the  name  of  his 
beloved  to  all  the  winds  ;  failing  that,  it  was 
a  comfort  to  hold  forth  on  the  subject  either 
with  tongue  or  pen.  And  Tim  saw  all  this 
quite  plainly,  and  somehow  was  not  as  grate 
ful  at  being  selected  for  the  part  he  was 
playing  as  he  felt  he  should  be.  '  Would  he 
like  it  after  all,'  he  asked  himself,  'since  this 
thing  was  to  be '  (and  he  bowed  before  the 
inevitable),  'had  Carol  selected  any  one  else  to 
whom  to  lay  open  his  heart  ?'  He  took  himself 
to  task  for  not  feeling  happier  in  his  friend's 
happiness.  This  was  not  the  devotion  he  had 
vowed  to  him  in  his  own  heart,  this  selfish 
ness  that  put  himself  before  the  object  of  his 


236  TIM  CHAP,  x 

affection,  which  refused  to  dance  at  the  dear 
one's  piping.  Somehow  he  felt  it  would  be 
easier  to  lament  at  his  mourning ;  and  for 
this  too  he  had  by  and  by  the  opportunity, 
as  we  shall  see. 


CHAPTER   XI 

Love  is  strong  as  death. 
Jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave. 

Solomon's  Song. 

'  HE  wants  great  care  and  attention  ;  there  is 
no  use  denying  it.  He  is  not  the  sort  of  lad 
with  whom  you  can  afford  to  run  risks.  He 
has  no  stamina,  none ;  no  constitution.  I 
don't  say  he  is  ill.  God  grant  he  may  not 
be,  for  he  hasn't  the  strength  to  throw 
things  off  as  some  boys  do.' 

The  speaker  was  the  old  Stoke  Ashton 
doctor,  and  the  subject  of  his  remarks  was 
Tim.  It  was  a  hard  winter,  and  the  boy 
was  not  very  well.  He  did  not  outgrow 
his  childish  delicacy,  though  it  would  be 
hard  to  say  quite  what  was  the  matter 


238  TIM  CHAP. 

with  him.  Mrs.  Quitchett  used  to  trot 
off  to  her  old  friend  the  doctor  and  have 
long  talks  with  him  in  his  surgery,  from 
which  she  would  come  away  blowing  her 
nose  and  very  red  about  the  eyelids.  She 
got  him  to  drop  in  as  if  by  accident  every 
now  and  then  at  the  manor-house  when 
Tim  was  at  home,  and  so  accustomed  was 
the  boy  to  these  half  friendly,  half  pro 
fessional  visits  of  his  earliest  friend  that  she 
thought  they  awoke  no  suspicions  in  his 
breast.  It  was  after  one  of  these  unofficial 
inspections  that  the  old  doctor  delivered 
himself  of  the  above  remark. 

'That's  what  you  always  said,'  replied 
Mrs.  Quitchett ;  '  I  must  say  you  have  always 
said  the  same ;  but  he  seems  somehow 
different  this  winter  from  what  I've  ever 
seen  him  before.' 

'  Do  you  think,'  asked  the  doctor,  '  that  he 
can  have  anything  on  his  mind  ?  Anything 
like  fretting  would  be  the  worst  thing  in 
the  world  for  him.  I  suppose,'  he  added 


xi  TIM  239 

tentatively,  '  he  can't  have  got  into  any 
trouble  of  any  kind  ?' 

'Trouble!'  echoed  Mrs.  Quitchett  scorn 
fully;  'he's  the  best -behaved  and  steadiest 
boy  in  the  kingdom  of  Britain.  He  in  any 
trouble  ;  why,  a  saint  from  heaven  would  be 
more  likely  ever  to  have  a  thought  that 
wasn't  out  of  the  Bible  than  him.  As  to  his 
having  anything  on  his  mind,  what  should 
he  have,  poor  lamb,  I  should  like  to  know  ?' 

The  doctor  said  if  she  didn't  know  of  any 
thing,  he  certainly  couldn't  .be  expected  to  ; 
that  he  had  only  thrown  out  the  suggestion 
for  what  it  was  worth.  Boys  would  be  boys, 
and  the  best  of  them  got  into  scrapes 
sometimes,  and  therewith  took  himself  off. 

But  his  nurse  was  wrong  in  supposing 
that  the  doctor's  frequent  droppings-in  were 
lost  upon  Tim.  I  don't  know  otherwise 
what  train  of  thought  it  could  have  been 
which  led  him  one  day  to  ask  his  father 
whether  his  grandmother  hadn't  died  rather 
suddenly.  The  question  surprised  Mr. 


240  TIM  CHAP. 

Ebbesley,  who  wondered  how  the  boy  knew 
anything  about  his  grandparents. 

'Yes,'  he  said,  'she  died  very  suddenly.' 

'  Had  she  heart  disease  ? ' 

'  No.  I  don't  think  she  had  anything  of 
that  sort,  but  she  had  never  been  very 
strong ;  it  was  more  a  general  lowness  of 
tone,  something  like  breaking  up,  and  yet 
she  was  not  an  old  woman.  I  think  being 
in  that  weak  state  she  must  have  caught 
something,  but  I  remember  very  little  about 
it.  I  was  quite  a  child  at  the  time.' 

1  Then  she  was  quite  young  when  she 
died  ? ' 

'  Oh  yes,  not  thirty,  I  think  ;  all  my 
mother's  family  were  delicate ;  they  were 
not  long-lived  people.'  And  Mr.  Ebbesley 
rather  hastily  changed  the  conversation. 
This  curiosity  as  to  illness  and  death  seemed 
to  him  morbid  and  unhealthy,  and  perhaps 
he  feared  the  boy  might  go  on  by  a  natural 
transition  to  ask  about  his  own  mother. 

He    had   been    even    less   at    home   than 


xi  77J/  241 

usual  that  winter,  but  he  too  had  noticed  in 
his  visits  to  the  manor-house  that  his  son 
was  not  looking  well,  and  this  conversation, 
chiming  in  with  certain  dark  hints  of  Mrs. 
Quitchett's,  made  him  feel  it  a  duty  to  have 
him  thoroughly  examined  before  sending 
him  back  to  school.  The  Granthurst  doctor 
was  sent  for  in  addition  to  our  old  friend, 
and  the  two  together  undressed  Tim,  and 
sounded  him,  and  thumped  him,  and  did  all 
the  inscrutable  things  doctors  do.  '  No/ 
they  said,  '  there  was  no  organic  trouble. 
The  lungs  were  not  affected ;  the  action  of 
the  heart  was  weak,  but  not  in  any  way 
diseased ;  the  general  tone  was  low  ;  the 
circulation  bad.  He  must  not  overtire  him 
self,  must  be  made  to  dress  warm,  must  be 
well  fed,'  etc.  etc.  etc.  So  Tim  went  back 
to  Eton  with  many  injunctions  from  Mrs. 
Quitchett,  who  was  more  than  usually  fussy 
and  particular  in  her  directions  to  him,  to  be 
very  careful  not  to  get  tired  or  to  sit  in  damp 
clothes,  and  to  be  sure  to  put  something 

R 


242  TIM  CHAP. 

round  his  neck  and  over  his  mouth  if  he  had 
to  go  out  at  night. 

Tim  was  sixteen  that  March.  How  our 
story  runs  away  with  us,  carrying  us  over  years 
in  which  he  changed  much  in  many  ways,  but 
remained  always  unchanged  on  the  side  on 
which  my  business  is  to  show  him.  He  had 
been  growing  a  good  deal  of  late,  yet  he  was 
not  tall  for  his  age  either,  and  his  slight, 
graceful  figure  made  him  look  younger  than 
he  really  was.  His  hands  too  were  small — 
delicate  slender  hands  with  long  fingers,  such 
as  do  not  often  belong  to  boys  who  are  quite 
strong.  Tommy  Weston,  who  had  a  very 
respectable-sized  fist,  used  to  chaff  him  about 
them,  and  solemnly  invent  receipts  for  the 
widening  of  them,  which  Tim  took  in  very 
good  part,  having  a  great  regard  for  Tommy, 
and  not  caring  a  brass  farthing  about  his 
hands.  It  was  bitter  cold  at  Eton  that  fives 
half,  and  Tim,  despite  his  warm  clothes,  was 
chilly,  and  had  to  stay  out  several  times. 

But  Easter  came  at  last,  mild,  sweet,  and 


xi  TIM  243 

smiling,  as  so  often  happens  after  a  cold 
winter.  Easter  was  late  that  year,  and  the 
cuckoo  was  calling  from  tree  to  tree  and 
wildflowers  blowing  in  field  and  hedgerow 
when  Tim  came  home  again.  He  was  just 
a  little  whiter,  a  little  thinner,  nothing  very 
noticeable,  yet  Mrs.  Quitchett  noticed  it,  and 
the  doctor's  words  spoken  so  many  years 
before  came  back  to  her  kind  old  mind : 
'  Things  will  affect  him  more  than  other 
people  all  his  life  ;  what  would  be  nothing  to 
an  ordinary  person  might  kill  him.'  She 
remembered  too  his  question  as  to  whether 
the  boy  could  have  anything  on  his  mind. 

'  Do  you  feel   ill,  my  dearie  ?'  she  asked 
him. 

*  Oh  no,  thanks,  nurse  dear,'  he  answered. 
'  You  all  make  such  a  fuss  over  me  that  you 
will  end  -by  making  me  think  there  is  some 
thing  really  the  matter.7 

*  Tim,    my  lamb,'   asked   the   old   woman 
earnestly,   '  you  won't  mind   if   I    ask  you  a 
question  ? — remember    it's   your    old    nurse, 


244  TIM  CHAP. 

who  loves  you  better  than  any  one  else,  and 
don't  be  angry, — you  haven't,  not  by  your 
own  fault  I  know,  but  out  of  kindness  or 
anything,  you  haven't  got  into  any  trouble  at 
school,  have  you  ?' 

'Why,  what  put  that  into  your  head?1 
asked  Tim,  and  being  tickled  with  the  idea, 
he  laughed  so  heartily  that  Mrs.  Quitchetl 
was  reassured  on  that  head. 

Still  she  persisted.  '  There  isn't  anything, 
then,  that's  troubling  you,  is  there,  dear,— 
nothing  on  your  mind,  as  you  may  say  ?' 

This  time  Tim  did  not  laugh  ;  he  looked 
at  her  with  some  surprise,  but  he  only  said, 
'  You  dear  silly  old  goose,  what  should  I 
have  on  my  mind  ? '  and  kissed  her,  and  so 
the  matter  dropped. 

But  Mrs.  Quitchett  and  the  doctor  were 
not  so  far  wrong  after  all  ;  say  what  he 
would,  Tim's  illness  was  partly  mental. 
The  cloud  of  his  father's  displeasure,  un 
expressed  yet  always  present,  shadowed 
his  whole  life.  Thus  his  greatest  joy, 


xi  TIM  245 

his  friendship  with  Carol,  came  to  involve 
his  greatest  grief,  his  alienation  from  the  only 
parent  he  had  ever  known  ;  and  the  constant 
conflict  of  emotions  told  on  the  boy's  sensitive 
nature,  and  reacting  on  his  bodily  health, 
helped  to  weaken  his  already  too  weak  con 
stitution.  And  Carol,  meaning  only  to  be 
kind,  contrived,  like  most  well  -  meaning 

o 

people,  to  make  matters  worse  by  coming 
to  see  him  nearly  every  day.  He  could  talk 
unrestrainedly  to  him  about  Violet,  as  he 
could  to  no  one  else ;  besides,  he  too  had 
noticed  the  growing  pallor  and  creeping 
lassitude  of  Tim,  and  being  really  and 
sincerely  fond  of  his  friend,  began  to  grow 
anxious  about  him.  He  rarely  encountered 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  and  certainly  never  guessed 
at  his  objecting  to  his  intimacy  with  his  son. 
When  they  met,  the  older  man  was  always 
studiously  polite  to  the  younger ;  if  he  was 
rather  cold  too,  it  was  not  very  noticeable, 
Mr.  Ebbesley's  manner  to  the  general  public 
not  being  chiefly  remarkable  for  warmth  or 


246  TIM  CHAP. 

geniality.  Tim,  however,  lived  on  thorns  ; 
he  had  made  his  choice  and  would  stick  to  it, 
but  he  was  particularly  anxious  to  avoid  doing 
anything  that  could  look  like  an  act  of  open 
defiance,  and  all  this  perpetual  flourishing  of 
Carol  about  the  place  might  very  easily,  in 
his  father's  eyes,  be  made  to  bear  such  an 
interpretation.  Every  time  the  two  met  he 
underwent  real  suffering,  such  as  no  one 
can  understand  who  has  not  experienced 
something  like  it.  Mrs.  Quitchett,  noting 
the  shade  that  crossed  her  master's  face,  and 
the  quick  flush  and  drooping  of  the  eyelids 
with  which  Tim  mentioned  Carol's  name 
every  time  circumstances  obliged  him  to  do 
so  in  his  father's  presence,  or  rather,  perhaps, 
guided  by  that  divine  intuition  which  lends 
a  sort  of  second  sight  to  those  who  love 
much,  arrived  at  some  glimmering  suspicion 
of  the  state  of  affairs.  The  doctor's  sugges 
tion  of  Tim's  having  some  secret  cause  of 
worry  had  set  her  mind  all  agog  to  discover 
and  if  possible  remove  it ;  and  Mr.  Ebbesley's 


xi  TIM  247 

strange  behaviour  on  the  day  of  his  return 
from  India  recurred  suddenly  to  her  recollec 
tion,  and  seemed  to  supply  the  clue  to  all 
this  mystery  which  her  cross-questioning  had 
failed  to  extract  from  Tim.  Now  as  then 
her  love  made  her  bold,  and  she  determined 
to  attack  her  master  on  the  subject  the  next 
time  he  came  to  Stoke  Ashton.  She  had 
carried  her  point  then,  and  might  again  ;  the 
only  thing  that  troubled  her  resolution  was 
an  embarrassing  doubt  of  what  the  point 
precisely  was  that  she  desired  to  carry. 
Then  she  had  a  definite  thing  to  try  for ; 
she  wished  to  extract  permission  for  Carol  to 
come  to  the  manor-house,  and  had  succeeded 
in  doing  so.  But  here  was  Carol  coming 
there  every  day,  more  than  he  had  ever 
done  before.  What  she  was  to  ask,  she 
knew  not ;  but  she  felt,  as  she  would  have 
expressed  it,  '  that  she  would  be  guided  to 
speak '  when  the  time  came,  and  she  resolved 
to  make  the  attempt  for  her  boy's  sake. 

'  If  you  please,  sir,  can   I  speak  to  you  a 


248  TIM  CHAP. 

minute?'  she  asked,  planting  herself  in  the 
lion's  path  on  the  first  opportunity  that  pre 
sented  itself.  She  felt  that  what  she  was 
going  to  say  bordered  on  impertinence,  and 
her  heart  quaked,  though  her  face  was  calm. 

'  Certainly,  nurse,'  answered  Mr.  Ebbesley 
with  grave  affability  ;  '  is  it  about  the  books  ? 
Do  you  want  some  money  ? ' 

'  Not  at  present,  thank  you,  sir  ;  the  fact 
is,  I  want  to  speak  to  you.  about  your  son.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  looked  up  quickly,  but  said 
nothing. 

'  Do  you  think  that  boy  looks  well  ? ' 
inquired  Mrs.  Quitchett  impressively. 

'  He  certainly  does  not  look  as  well  as  I 
should  like  to  see  him,'  admitted  the  other 
rather  unwillingly,  *  but  he  never  has  done 
that.  As  to  his  being  ill,  I  can't  find  out 
that  there  is  anything  the  matter  with  him  ; 
he  has  been  very  thoroughly  examined  by 
the  doctors.  Is  there  anything  else  you  can 
suggest  ? ' 

'  Shall   I   tell  you  what  the  doctor  asked 


xi  TIM  249 

me  ? '   asked  the  nurse,   still  with   the  air  of 
Nemesis. 

*  Certainly  ;  let  me  hear  it,  though  I  don't 
suppose  he  is  likely  to  have  said  anything 
different  to  you  from  what  he  did  to  me.' 

'  He  asked  me,'  continued  the  old  lady,  ( if 
the  boy  had  anything  on  his  mind,  if  he  was 
worried  about  anything.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  started.  The  conversation 
was  taking  a  turn  he  by  no  means  ex 
pected. 

'  What  in  the  world  should  a  child  like 
that  have  to  be  worried  about  ? '  he  asked 
rather  testily. 

Mrs.  Quitchett  did  not  flinch. 

1  If  you'll  excuse  the  liberty  I'm  taking,' 
she  said,  '  I  think  I  can  tell  you,  sir.  I  may 
be  wrong,  for  I  am  only  an  ignorant  old 
woman ;  but  when  anything  ails  that  boy 
I'm  just  bound  to  try  and  find  it  out ;  and  I 
think  I  have.' 

'  For  Heaven's  sake  say  out  what  you 
mean  ! '  exclaimed  Mr.  Ebbesley  crossly  ;  '  if 


250  TIM  CHAP. 

there's  anything  you  want  me  to  do,  tell  me 
what  it  is.' 

'  That  boy's  fretting,  I  can  see  plainly ; 
and  it's  something  to  do  with  you  and  young 
Mr.  Darley,  though  I  don't  know  what.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  jumped  out  of  his  chair 
with  a  smothered  execration,  and  began  to 
walk  about  the  room. 

'  Has  my  son  been  complaining  of  me  to 
you  ? '  he  asked  presently. 

Mrs.  Quitchett  smiled  with  fine  scorn,  not 
untouched  by  pity,  for  the  poor  man  who 
understood  his  own  child  so  little. 

'  Not  he,'  she  answered  laconically ;  '  I 
haven't  so  much  as  got  one  word  out  of  him 
about  it,  though  I've  tried  ;  but  he  frets — any 
one  may  see  that.  And  I'm  very  much  mis 
taken  if  that's  not  what  it's  about.' 

'  What  do  you  wish  me  to  do  ? '  asked 
Mr.  Ebbesley,  sitting  down  again  and  putting 
on  his  grand  manner.  '  Does  not  my  son 
have  perfect  liberty  to  see  his  friend  as  much 
as  he  wishes  ?  Do  I  interfere  in  any  way  ? ' 


xi  TIM  251 

'  I  can't  say  as  you  do,  sir,'  answered  Mrs. 
Quitchett  thoughtfully,  'and  that's  just  what 
puzzles  me.  The  young  man  he  come  and 
go  as  he  likes,  but  your  son's  not  at  ease 
about  it ;  and  I  notice  that  he  never  mentions 
his  friend  to  you  if  he  can  possibly  help  it. 
You  know  you  took  a  dislike  to  that  boy 
from  the  first  day  you  came  home  and  found 
him  here ;  and  whether  you've  ever  said  so 
to  your  son  or  not,  he  know  it,  and  he 
fret.' 

When  Mrs.  Quitchett  felt  strongly  she 
had  a  way  of  clipping  the  final  s  from  the 
third  person  singular  of  her  verbs,  which  lent 
a  curious  impressiveness  to  her  remarks. 
There  was  something  so  sternly  judicial  in 
the  old  lady's  attitude  and  manner  that  Mr. 
Ebbesley  felt  called  upon  to  make  a  defence 
of  himself.  It  seemed  as  though  certain  un 
comfortable  doubts  as  to  his  own  conduct, 
which  had  begun  to  trouble  him  of  late,  had 
suddenly  taken  voice  and  shape  and  stood  up 
to  confront  him ;  and  the  necessity  of  justifi- 


252  TIM  CHAP. 

cation  that  he  felt  addressed  itself  rather  to 
them  than  to  his  visible  interlocutor. 

'  It  is  true/  he  said  after  a  while,  'that  I 
have  disapproved  of  Tim's  foolish  infatuation 
for  his  young  neighbour,  and  I  have  on  one 
occasion  spoken  to  him  about  it.  He  has  an 
unhappy  trick  of  exaggerating  trifles,  and  in 
the  present  case  has  chosen  to  make  a  mount 
ain  out  of  a  molehill,  as  usual.  I  told  him  that 
I  thought  he  might  with  advantage  to  himself 
be  less  like  a  silly  schoolgirl  in  his  friendship 
and  more  like  a  man,  and  that  I  thought  it 
bad  for  him  mentally  and  physically  to  sit 
cramped  up  all  day  writing  long  sentimental 
letters.  He  chose  to  talk  a  great  deal  of 
nonsense  about  not  "giving  up  his  friend," 
and  all  that  kind  of  thing ;  and  now  he  is 
playing  at  being  the  persecuted  victim,  who 
bears  ill-usage  heroically  for  his  friend's  sake. 
It  is  all  on  a  par  with  the  rest.  He  likes  to 
fancy  himself  the  hero  of  a  story.  It's  all 
damn  nonsense,'  he  concluded  suddenly,  with 
a  rapid  drop  into  irritability. 


xi  TIM  253 

Mrs.  Ouitchett  was  routed  ;  she  could  say 
no  more.  She  felt  that  she  had  failed  ;  though 
in  other  respects  she  hardly  understood  Mr. 
Ebbesley's  explanation,  that  point  at  least  was 
quite  clear  to  her,  and  she  began  to  make 
a  sort  of  apology,  '  if  she  had  presumed.' 

Her  antagonist,  feeling  pleased  with  his 
own  exposition  of  the  matter,  graciously  told 
her  not  to  distress  herself,  and  added,  '  I  am 
quite  right,  you  may  be  sure,  and,  I  need 
not  say,  am  acting  solely  for  what  I  consider 
to  be  the  boy's  own  good.  I  have  no  per 
sonal  dislike  to  young  Darley ;  quite  the 
reverse.  I  am  sure  I  am  right,  and  some 
clay  or  other,  when  he  has  come  to  his 
senses,  Tim  will  be  the  first  to  acknow 
ledge  it.' 

'  If  he  don't  die  in  finding  it  out,'  muttered 
Mrs.  Quitchett  as  she  left  the  room  ;  but  Mr. 
Ebbesley  apparently  did  not  catch  what  she 
said. 

Now  Mr.  Ebbesley  was  not  alone  in 
objecting  to  the  intimacy  between  the  lads. 


254  TIM  CHAP. 

Miss  Violet  Markham  Willis  had  on  several 
occasions,  when  she  had  expressed  her 
sovereign  will  and  pleasure  that  Carol  should 
do  this  or  that,  been  met  by  the  answer  that 
he  must  go  and  see  Tim,  who,  he  was  sure, 
was  not  well,  and  who  must  be  dreadfully 
lonely  and  blue  all  by  himself  in  that  old 
frog-hole  of  a  manor-house.  Carol  in  so 
doing  was  performing  an  act  of  highest 
self-abnegation,  and  never  doubted  that 
Violet  must  know  it  to  be  such,  and  approve 
of  his  motive.  And  she,  with  the  odd  per 
versity  of  young  ladies  in  love,  never  hinted 
that  she  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  But  it  is 

o 

one  thing  voluntarily  to  sacrifice  oneself  to  a 
sense  of  duty,  and  quite  another  to  be  sacri 
ficed,  without  one's  consent,  to  some  one 
else's  sense  of  duty.  She  had  never  shot 
Tim  with  a  gun,  and  afterwards  amused  his 
slow  convalescence,  or  delivered  him  from 
stoning,  or  loftily  received  his  admiring 
devotion  for  eight  years  ;  consequently  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  she  should  in  any 


xi  TIM  255 

way  share  Carol's  feeling  about  him  ;  and  to 
her  he  seemed  only  a  most  uninteresting  and 
unnecessary  little  person,  who  was  constantly 
interfering  between  her  and  her  legitimate 
property.  As  a  consequence  of  all  which, 
Carol's  amiability  struck  her  as  overdone, 
and  she  was  decidedly  inclined  to  dislike  the 
unhappy  object  of  it. 

Now  it  happened  at  this  time  that  Mrs. 
Markham  Willis  gave  her  hard -worked 
governess  a  holiday,  the  first  for  two  years, 
and  Violet  undertook  to  rule  the  schoolroom 
in  her  absence.  The  little  Markham  Willises 
were  what  is  called  lively,  high-spirited  chil 
dren,  and  finding  the  yoke  off  their  necks,  they 
became  pretty  nearly  unmanageable,  and  gave 
their  elder  sister  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  Violet 
was  a  very  good  girl  in  her  way,  but  by  no 
means  a  saint ;  she  liked  to  enjoy  herself,  and 
to  have  her  own  way,  and  to  be  a  good  deal 
petted  and  flattered,  and  told  how  nice  and 
how  pretty  she  was  ;  and  this  severe  and 
unusual  strain  on  her  patience  proved  a  little 


256  TIM 

too  much  for  her  temper.  She  had  under 
taken  this,  being  really  anxious  to  be  of  use 
to  her  mother,  and  from  the  best  of  motives, 
and  she  was  determined  to  go  through  with 
it  and  not  complain,  but  she  was  having  a 
rough  time  of  it  ;  and,  moreover,  it  galled 
her  pride  to  have  to  acknowledge  that  she 
could  not  keep  the  order  that  seemed  to 
result  as  though  by  magic  from  the  mere 
presence  of  the  meek,  colourless  Fraulein, 
whom  in  her  heart  she  had  always  rather 
looked  down  upon.  She  felt  sick  and  cross 
and  bitter,  and  as  some  one  else  always  has  to 
suffer  when  any  one  is  in  that  frame  of  mind, 
poor  Carol  came  in  for  trouble  in  the  present 
instance  as  being  the  handiest  and  likeliest 
person  on  whom  to  vent  her  displeasure. 

It  is  far  oftener  for  some  one  else's  faults 
than  for  our  own  that  we  receive  chastise 
ment  at  the  hands  of  our  friends  and  relatives, 
and  for  the  most  part  we  do  not  even  know 
whose  sins  it  is  that  we  are  bearing  vicari 
ously.  Maggie  Tulliver  had  an  old  wooden 


xi  TIM  257 

doll  that  she  ground  and  beat  when  impo- 
tently  hating  her  fellow-creatures,  and  Violet 
pitched  upon  her  lover  to  act  this  uncom 
fortable  part.  Perhaps  their  true  love  had 
run  a  little  too  smooth  if  anything,  and  with 
human  unreasonableness,  she  may  have  felt 
that  a  little  breeze  in  that  direction  might 
clear  the  air  and  infuse  the  proper  amount  of 
necessary  excitement  into  the  long  wooing, 
which  threatened  to  become  a  trifle  prosaic. 
Anyhow  it  is  certain  that  Carol  was  made  to 
suffer.  And  when  anything  ailed  Carol,  Tim, 
you  may  be  sure,  was  not  long  in  finding  it 
out.  He  noticed  that  his  friend  came  in  and 
sat  down  wearily,  asking  how  he  was  in  a 
sort  of  perfunctory  manner,  as  one  whose 
mind  was  elsewhere.  (Ordinarily  Carol's 
advent  was  made  known  by  shouts  or  sing 
ing  long  before  he  entered  the  house.)  He 
walked  about  aimlessly  and  stared  out  of 
window,  much  as  he  had  done  on  that 
memorable  day  at  Eton.  Tim  forbore  to 
press  for  confidences  until  Carol  felt  inclined 

s 


258  TIM  CHAP. 

to  make  them  ;  indeed,  he  almost  hoped  he 
would  make  none  ;  he  felt  trouble  in  the  air 
by  a  sort  of  instinct,  and  shrank  from  fresh 
burthens,  with  sheer  physical  weakness. 
Carol  could  talk  of  nothing,  settle  to  nothing, 
and  soon  went  away ;  he  was  manifestly 
distressed  about  something.  Again,  the  next 
day,  he  was  even  more  dejected,  and  on  the 
third  he  broke  silence. 

'  I've  been  poor  company  these  last  few 
days,'  he  said  with  a  sudden  effort,  '  but  I've 
been  thinking  of  my  own  affairs,  I'm  afraid, 
and  not  of  you  at  all.  The  fact  is  I'm 
infernally  miserable,  and  you  must  try  not  to 
mind  me.' 

'  You  miserable !  Oh,  Carol,  why  didn't 
you  say  so  sooner  ?  Can  I  do  anything  for 
you  ?  Do  tell  me  what's  the  matter.' 

'  There !  I  knew  I  should  make  you 
wretched;  I'm  a  selfish  brute  to  come  and 
make  you  unhappy  too  ;  but  I  can't  help  it. 
I've  tried  to  say  nothing  about  it.' 

4  And    do    you    suppose,'   asked    Tim    re- 


xi  TIM  259 

proachfully,  '  that  I  haven't  seen  that  some 
thing  was  wrong  ?  How  blind  you  must  think 
me ;  or  else  that  I  care  very  little  about  you, 
not  to  have  noticed.' 

1  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  stayed  away,' 
said  poor  Carol  dejectedly.  *  I'm  not  fit  com 
pany  for  a  dog  when  I'm  out  o'  spirits,  but  I 
try  to  keep  cheery  at  home  for  the  sake  of 
the  dear  old  people ;  and  it's  such  a  comfort 
to  give  up  every  now  and  then,  and  look  as 
gloomy  as  one  feels.  I'm  a  bad  hand  at  pre 
tending ;  indeed,  I've  never  had  to  before.' 

'  You  need  not  trouble  to  with  me,  at  least,' 
said  Tim,  smiling  faintly  ;  *  I  know  you  far 
too  well  not  to  see  through  it  in  a  minute. 
But  all  this  time  you  haven't  told  me  what's 
the  matter.' 

Carol    blushed    hotly.       '  Violet he 

stammered,  and  then  stopped  abruptly. 

'  Oh,    Carol ! '     Tim     exclaimed,     aghast, 

'  you    don't    mean    to    say    she '       The 

thought  was  too  awful  to  be  put  into  words, 
but  Carol  answered  it. 


260  TIM  CHAP. 

'  No  ;  not  exactly,'  he  admitted  moodily  ; 
'  not  in  so  many  words,  but  that's  what  it's 
coming  to,  I  can  see.' 

And  then  he  went  on  to  tell  how  Violet's 
manner  had  changed  to  him  of  late.  She 
was  no  longer  as  she  once  was,  but  more  as 
though  he  had  offended  her  somehow,  and 
yet  he  could  think  of  nothing  he  had  done. 
No,  clearly  it  was  not  his  fault ;  she  had  got 
tired  of  him,  that  was  all,  and  meant  to  throw 
him  over  ;  it  was  very  natural,  and  he  had 
been  a  fool  to  expect  anything  else.  She 
was  a  great  deal  too  good  for  him,  and  he 
couldn't  blame  her.  Had  not  he  himself 
refused  to  bind  her  ?  She  had  been  too 
young  to  know  her  own  mind,  and  had  seen 
so  few  people ;  he  supposed  she'd  seen  some 
other  fellow  she  liked  better — and  the  poor 
boy  ground  his  teeth  at  the  bare  thought. 
She  had  a  perfect  right  to  do  as  she  liked, 
and  it  was  good  of  her  to  let  him  down  easy  ; 
anyway  he  must  try  and  take  it  like  a  man, 
and  not  make  a  fool  of  himself. 


XI 


TIM  261 


On  another  occasion  he  broke  down 
altogether.  'Violet/  he  said,  'had  shown 
her  coldness  towards  him  in  the  most 
marked  way ;  he  had  seen  her  coming  down 
the  road  alone,  and  had  hurried  forward, 
determined  at  all  risks  to  ask  what  had 
changed  her  towards  him, — any  certainty, 
even  the  worst,  would  be  better  than  this 
suspense.  But  when  she  saw  him,  she  had 
turned  down  a  lane  obviously  to  avoid  him, 
and  he  had  not  had  the  heart  to  follow  her.' 
The  poor  fellow  looked  almost  as  pale  as 
Tim,  and  actually  burst  out  crying  when  he 
came  to  this  point  in  his  narrative.  It  was 
the  first  time  in  all  their  long  intercourse 
that  Tim  had  ever  seen  Carol  cry,  and  the 
act  seemed  so  utterly  foreign  to  his  hero, 
and  out  of  keeping  in  every  way,  that  it 
filled  him  with  dismay,  and  took  from  him 
all  power  of  comfort  or  reasoning. 

'  Oh,  Carol !  oh,  dear  dear  Carol !  please 
don't,'  was  all  he  could  say  ;  the  sight  of  tears 
in  those  eyes  was  more  than  he  could  stand. 


262  TIM  CHAP. 

He  could  only  accompany  him  home, 
giving  him  the  help  of  his  sympathetic 
silence,  and  wisely  refraining  from  all 
attempts  at  speech. 

'Thanks,  dear  old  boy,'  Carol  said  as  he 
wrung  his  hand  at  parting  ;  '  you've  done  me 
lots  of  good '  ;  and  Tim  went  away  alone  for 
a  little  stroll  through  the  woods  to  ponder 
on  all  this  network  of  trouble.  Things  too 
deep  for  his  comprehension  seemed  to  be 
closing  in  upon  him.  That  he  should  be 
unhappy  had  come  to  appear  to  him  more 
or  less  in  the  natural  order  of  things  ;  but 
Carol ! 

What  manner  of  creature  then  was  this 
girl  who  could  so  sway  the  first  of  men  ? 
To  what  order  of  beings  did  she  belong, 
who  might  have  Carol  for  her  very  own, 
and  exist  in  perpetual  happiness  with  him, 
in  perfect  interchange  of  affection,  no  one 
blaming  or  thwarting  her ;  who  yet  treated 
him  like  this  and  made  him  wretched  ? 
Many  possibilities  had  suggested  themselves 


xi  TIM  263 

to  Tim,  but  never  this  one.  He  was  con 
fused  ;  his  head  ached  with  thinking.  The 
cheerful  sights  and  sounds  of  the  wood, 
now  beginning  to  deck  itself  with  its  first 
green,  the  bustle  of  the  birds  at  their  early 
nest- building,  the  delicate  yellow  of  the 
primroses  gemming  the  ground  all  about  his 
feet,  which  at  another  time  would  have  been 
lovingly  noted  by  him,  had  to-day  no  mes 
sage  of  comfort  for  the  puzzled  boy,  as  he 
vainly  tried  to  find  the  ends  of  these  tangled 
threads  of  life,  and  love,  sorrow,  and  anger. 

Presently  his  path  led  him  out  of  the 
wood  into  a  little  parklike  strip  of  meadow- 
land,  skirting  the  lane  that  would  take  him 
home.  The  boundary  hedge  was  set  on  a 
bank  sloping  gently  this  way  and  that,  but 
the  meadow  was  on  a  higher  level  than  the 
lane.  It  was  a  balmy  soft  afternoon,  unusu 
ally  mild  for  the  time  of  year,  and  Tim  was 
rather  tired  with  his  walk  ;  the  thought  just 
crossed  •  his  mind,  how  much  more  easily 
tired  he  seemed  to  be  now  than  formerly,  as 


264  TIM  CHAP. 

he  sat  down  on  the  soft  moss  and  leaned  his 
head  against  the  trunk  of  a  large  tree  that 
grew  on  the  summit  of  the  bank,  jutting  out 
from  the  hedge  on  either  side.  How  long 
he  sat  there  he  did  not  know ;  he  must  have 
fallen  into  a  kind  of  unconsciousness,  for  he 
did  not  think  he  was  asleep. 

He  was  roused  at  length  by  a  sound  of 
voices,  and  peeping  through  the  hedge  he 
could  discern  the  tops  of  two  feminine  hats, 
whose  wearers  had  evidently  seated  them 
selves  on  the  lane  side  of  the  bank  to  rest, 
directly  below  where  he  was.  He  was  rising 
to  pass  on,  when  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  mention  of  his  own  name  and  that  of 
Carol,  in  a  voice  that  made  him  thrill ;  it 
was  Violet  Markham  Willis  who  was  speak 
ing.  He  could  not  go  on  now ;  his  legs 
refused  their  office,  and  he  sank  down  again 
in  the  same  place.  With  instinctive  repulsion 
from  the  meanness  of  eavesdropping,  he 
tried  to  call  out  to  warn  her  that  he  was 
there  but  no  sound  came  from  his  lips.  He 


xi  TL\f  .  265 

was  as  though  paralysed,  yet  with  all  his 
senses  morbidly  acute  ;  and  then  his  whole 
being  seemed  to  resolve  itself  into  an 
imperious  necessity  not  to  lose  a  word  of 
this  conversation. 

Violet  spoke  in  a  high  aggrieved  tone, 
not  difficult  to  catch  in  the  stillness  of  the 
spring  evening.  Mrs.  Markham  Willis  had 
made  some  remark  on  her  daughter's  altered 
looks  and  manner  of  late,  and  Violet,  con 
cealing  the  schoolroom  troubles,  had  laid 
the  blame  on  Carol,  whereupon  her  mother 
had  said  a  word  of  expostulation  on  that 
head  too. 

'  Oh,  Carol ! '  the  girl  was  saying,  when 
her  voice  first  struck  Tim's  ear.  '  Carol 
doesn't  care  two  straws  about  me  ;  he  may 
have  fancied  himself  in  love  with  me  at  first, 
but  it's  easy  to  see  he's  tired  of  me.  Would 
he  be  perpetually  running  after  that  nasty 
little  Ebbesley  friend  of  his,  if  he  were  really 
fond  of  me  ?  he's  always  with  him,  far  more 
than  he  is  with  me,  I'm  sure.' 


266  TIM  CHAP. 

'  Dearest  Violet,'  her  mother  answered, 
'  are  you  not  a  little  unreasonable  ?  I  can't 
see,  I'm  sure,  what  Carol  finds  so  attractive 
in  that  boy,  though  I  fancy  it  is  his  kind 
ness.  The  poor  fellow  is  delicate,  and  very 
fond  of  him  ;  and  after  all,  he  has  a  right  to 
choose  his  own  friends.' 

{ I  should  be  the  last  to  wish  to  deny  it  to 
him,'  Violet  retorted  defiantly  ;  '  he  can  make 
a  free  choice  ;  if  he  prefers  "  Tim,"  as  he  calls 
him,  to  me,  let  him  have  his  choice  by  all 
means.'  And  rather  inconsistently  with  her 
brave  words,  she  began  to  cry.  She  was 
wrought  up  and  nervous,  anxious  to  make 
something  appear  like  a  tangible  grievance. 

'Oh,  my  darling,  consider,'  cried  Mrs. 
Markham  Willis  ;  'are  you  not  trifling  with 
your  own  happiness  ?  I  am  sure  Carol  loves 
you  very  much,  poor  fellow ;  and  you  know 
it  too,  if  it  were  not  for  this  foolish  misunder 
standing.  Tell  me,  dear,  what  makes  you 
think  he  cares  so  much  for  this  friend  ? ' 

'  What  makes  me  think  ! '  echoed  Violet, 


xi  TIM  267 

sobbing.  '  Doesn't  he  always  say  he  must 
go  to  him,  if  I  suggest  our  doing  anything 
together  ?  Isn't  he  for  ever  talking  about 
him,  and  making  him  an  excuse  to  get  away 
from  me  ?  If  he  wants  me  to  play  second 
fiddle  to  that  ridiculous  boy,  he's  just  mis 
taken  ;  I'll  never  marry  a  man  with  an 
intimate  friend.  Never.' 

'  Dear  dear  Violet !  don't  talk  so  loud  ; 
some  one  is  coming.  Oh  !  don't  cry,  darling  ; 
do  dry  your  eyes.  I  wouldn't  have  any  one 
see  you  crying  here  in  the  public  lane  for 
worlds.  Have  some  self-respect,  for  my 
sake  if  not  for  your  own.  Oh  !  dear,  come 
quick  ;  your  eyes  are  quite  red,  and  you 
have  no  veil  ;  and  some  one  really  is 
coming.' 

So  this  was  the  conclusion,  the  ex 
planation  of  the  whole  matter.  It  was  he, 
Tim,  that  was  the  bar  to  the  happiness  of 
the  one  being  he  loved  more  than  all  the 
world.  There  was  an  irony  in  it  all  that 
made  it  hard,  very  hard.  There  are  moments 


268  TIM  CHAP. 

in  which  thought  gallops  with  us,  and  Tim's 
resolve  was  taken  so  quickly  that  he  wondered 
at  himself.  Not  for  an  instant  did  he  waver, 
nor  rejoice  that  if  he  would,  he  could  keep 
his  friend  to  himself.  Even  the  thought 
that  Carol  cared  enough  for  him  to  make 
the  girl  to  whom  he  was  virtually  engaged 
suppose  that  she  held  only  a  secondary  place 
in  his  affections,  could  not  shake  his  purpose. 
His  duties  all  pointed  one  way — that  to  his 
father  and  that  to  his  friend  brought  into 
sudden  harmony  in  a  way  he  had  little 
looked  for.  Yes,  duties  pointed  one  way, 
but  feelings  tugged  the  other ;  and  though 
resolved  to  follow  duty,  he  had  a  hard 
struggle  to  quiet  the  turmoil  within  him. 
He  walked  home  very  slowly,  strengthening 
himself  in  his  purpose.  '  Nothing  ever  shall,' 
Carol  had  said  ;  '  at  least  it  will  be  your  fault 
if  it  does.'  How  well  he  remembered  the 
words,  and  his  own  scorn  of  such  an  impos 
sibility.  Now  they  mocked  his  wretched 
ness,  and  with  them  recurred  another  sentence 


xi  TIM  269 

from  quite  a  different  conversation.  His 
own  words  to  his  father  seemed  to  rise  in 
judgment  against  him,  and  he  did  not  try 
to  appeal  from  them.  '  If  one  loved  a  person 
truly,  one  would  do  anything  for  him,  even 
give  him  up.'  He  was  determined  that  he 
would  never  repay  all  Carol's  kindness  by 
ruining  his  life  for  him.  He  did  not  pause 
to  think  of  what  he  was  doing  to  his  own  ; 
that  was  a  side  of  the  question  on  which  he 
found  it  safer  not  to  dwell  at  present. 

When  he  reached  home  he  went  straight 
to  the  room  where  he  knew  he  should  find 
his  father.  Going  up  to  him,  he  said,  '  Do 
you  remember  our  talk  about  Carol  Darley, 
just  a  year  ago  ?'  He  spoke  low  and  quickly, 
holding  his  hat  in  one  hand  and  supporting 
himself  at  the  table  with  the  other. 

Mr.  Ebbesley  could  not  help  a  hasty 
questioning  look  ;  he  was  taken  by  surprise  ; 
but  he  answered  coldly,  '  Perfectly ;  I  am 
not  likely  to  forget.  You  were  good  enough 
on  that  occasion  to  inform  me  that  you  pre- 


270  TIM  CHAP,  xi 

ferred  that  young  gentleman  to  me,  and  that 
you  intended  deliberately  to  disobey  my 
express  desires,  which  I  must  say  you  have 
done  most  thoroughly.' 

'  It  was  the  first  time  I  ever  disobeyed 
you,  and  you  don't  know  what  it  cost  me  ; 
but  that  is  not  the  point.  Since  then  I  have 
thought  it  over ;  I  am  come  to  say  that  I 
will  do  as  you  wish.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  was  more  surprised  than 
ever,  but  he  would  have  died  rather  than 
show  it.  He  only  said,  '  I  am  glad  to  hear 
it ;  I  don't  ask  what  has  brought  you  to  your 
senses  at  last ;  I  suppose  you  have  had  a 
quarrel.' 

But  Tim  did  not  answer ;  his  heart  was 
too  full.  He  was  wrought  to  the  utmost 
pitch  of  endurance  of  which  he  was  capable. 
He  could  not  have  said  another  word  to 
save  his  soul.  He  hurried  almost  stumbling 
from  the  room  ;  the  necessity  to  be  alone 
was  strong  upon  him. 


CHAPTER    XII 

But  sworn  I  have  ;  and  never  must 
Your  banished  servant  trouble  you  ; 
For  if  I  do,  you  may  mistrust 
The  vow  I  made  to  love  you,  too. 

HERRICK. 

THE  next  time  Carol  came  to  the  manor- 
house  Tim  was  not  to  be  found  ;  he  had  run 
and  hidden  himself  in  the  garden  when  he 
saw  him  coming.  Crouching  among  the 
bushes,  he  could  hear  the  dearly-loved  voice 
calling  him  by  the  familiar  nickname,  and 
his  courage  nearly  gave  out ;  he  pressed  his 
hands  over  his  mouth  as  though  he  would 
choke  back  the  answering  cry  that  rose 
naturally  to  his  lips. 

1  Tim,   Tim  ! '  shouted  Carol,   '  where  are 
you  ? ' 


272  TIM  CHAP. 

Either  there  was,  or  Tim  fancied  there  was, 
a  tone  of  disappointment  in  the  voice.  Carol 
was  in  trouble  ;  Carol  had  need  of  him,  and  he 
must  hear  him  call  and  let  him  go  unsatisfied 
away.  It  was  his  free  act  too  ;  no  one  had 
compelled  him  to  it.  But  it  was  for  Carol's  own 
sake ;  and  in  that  thought  alone  he  was  strong. 

For  weeks  afterwards,  in  the  silence  of  the 
night,  whenever  he  lay  awake  (and  he  lay 
awake  a  good  deal  in  those  nights),  he  heard 
that  voice  calling  to  him,  '  Tim,  Tim ! '  in 
saddest  accents  of  one  that  sought  something 
on  which  he  had  counted,  and  found  it  not. 
He  felt  that  his  one  chance  lay  in  avoiding 
a  meeting  with  Carol,  and  the  constant  watch 
and  care  to  do  so  told  on  him  fearfully, 
making  him  nervous  and  excitable.  He 
dreaded  to  stay  at  home,  lest  his  friend 
should  come  and  see  him,  and  almost  more 
to  go  out,  lest  he  should  come  upon  him 
unawares.  He  could  settle  to  nothing  ;  every 
step  on  the  path,  every  voice,  every  opening 
door,  made  him  start  and  tremble,  and  when 


xii  TIM  273 

he  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  seized  his 
hat  to  rush  out  no  matter  where,  he  would 
be  taken  with  such  an  agony  of  apprehension 
before  he  had  gone  a  hundred  yards,  that 
he  had  scarcely  strength  to  get  back  to  the 
house.  No  one  will  ever  know  what  he 
suffered  in  those  few  days  ;  and  when  his 
father,  taking  pity  on  his  altered  looks, 
offered  to  take  him  to  the  seaside  till  it 
should  be  time  for  him  to  return  to  Eton,  he 
eagerly  accepted.  Not  a  word  was  spoken 
between  them  about  Carol ;  the  subject 
was  avoided  by  tacit  consent.  William 
Ebbesley  wondered  not  a  little  what  had 
influenced  his  son  to  act  as  he  had  done,  but 
he  would  not  ask.  He  had  long  given  up 
trying  to  understand  the  boy,  who  was  as 
full  of  incomprehensible  moods  as  a  woman. 
He  concluded  that  deference  to  his  wishes 
had  not  had  a  large  share  in  determining 
him,  but  there  he  did  Tim  injustice.  Any 
way  his  point  was  gained,  and  he  could 
afford  to  be  magnanimous  ;  so  the  two  went 

T 


274  TIM  CHAP. 

off  to  the  sea  together  for  the  remaining 
week  or  ten  days  of  Tim's  holidays. 

Poor  Carol  failed  utterly  at  first  to  under 
stand  what  had  happened.  Tim  was  never 
to  be  found  when  he  went  to  the  manor-house, 
never  came  to  the  Court.  Then  one  day 
the  answer  to  his  inquiry  was  that  Mr. 
Ebbesley  and  Tim  were  gone  away  to  the 
seaside  together.  Tim  was  'poorly,'  the 
little  maid  who  trembled  under  Mrs.  Quit- 
chett  told  him,  '  needed  change  of  air,  the 
doctor  had  said.' 

'  And  had  he  left  no  message  for  him  ? ' 
Carol  asked;  '  was  she  sure  there  was  none  ?' 

Yes ;  the  little  maid  thought  she  was  sure 
there  was  none.  Mrs.  Quitchett  was  out,  but 
she  would  ask  her  when  she  came  in. 

Carol  went  away  sad  at  heart.  Tim  would 
write,  he  told  himself, — was  sure  to  write.  He 
would  not  yet  believe  that  Tim  could  mean 
anything.  He  was  not  well ;  he  had  had  to 
go  away  suddenly  ;  he  would  be  sure  to  write 
in  a  day  or  two.  So  he  waited  the  day  or  two, 


xii  TIM  275 

but  still  Tim  made  no  sign.  Then  Carol  got 
the  address  from  Mrs.  Quitchett,  and  wrote 
himself,  but  no  answer  came  back.  He  began 
to  grow  anxious  after  that ;  to  imagine  all  sorts 
of  possibilities  ;  he  had  not  known  how  fond 
he  was  of  his  friend.  He  determined  to  go 
again  to  the  manor-house,  and  ask  if  the 
accounts  of  Tim  were  good. 

'  Yes  '  ;  Mrs.  Quitchett  '  thanked  him  ;  she 
had  had  a  letter  from  him  that  morning,  and 
he  said  he  was  better.  He  liked  the  sea, 
and  thought  it  was  doing  him  good.' 

'And  was  there  any  —  any  message  or 
anything  ?  in  short,  anything  about  me  in  the 
letter  ? '  Carol  asked  with  a  little  proud 
hesitation. 

No,  there  was  nothing ;  Mrs.  Quitchett 
had  noticed  it  and  thought  it  strange.  '  But 
doubtless  he  means  to  write  you  a  long  letter 
himself  one  of  these  days/  said  the  good- 
natured  old  woman  ;  '  he  knew  his  old  nurse 
would  be  anxious,  God  bless  him !  and  so  he 
wrote  to  her  first.' 


276  TIM  CHAP. 

But  the  letter  Mrs.  Quitchett  predicted 
never  came.  'If  he  is  well  enough  to  write 
to  her,'  Carol  thought,  'he  is  surely  up  to 
sending  me  just  a  line,  if  only  to  say  how 
he  is  ;  he  might  know  I  should  be  anxious.' 
And  he  felt,  not  unnaturally,  a  little  hurt. 
He  would  not  write  again  until  Tim  chose 
to  answer  his  first  letter,  which  had  been  all 
a  kindly  affectionate  heart  could  make  it, 
sympathy  for  his  ill-health,  regret  at  his  going, 
and  no  hint  of  blame  at  the  manner  of  it,  not 
a  word  about  himself.  He  had  done  what 
he  could  ;  now  he  would  wait. 

These  were  sad  times  for  Carol ;  he  was  so 
unused  to  sorrow  that  it  had  all  the  added 
weight  of  strangeness.  Violet  seemed  to 
have  given  him  up,  and  now  Tim — Tim,  to 
whom  he  had  turned  in  his  grief  with  such 
implicit  reliance, — just  when  most  he  needed 
the  support  of  friendship  and  kindness,  Tim 
had  thrown  him  over  too. 

'  I  bored  him  with  my  troubles,'  said  the 
poor  boy  to  himself  a  little  bitterly ;  '  it  was 


xii  TIM  277 

very  natural ;  one  could  not  expect  a  child 
like  that  to  feel  interest  in  such  a  subject. 
And  yet  he  seemed  so  fond  of  me,  and  he 
never  was  quite  like  other  boys  of  his  age — 
older  and  younger  at  once,  somehow.  Well, 
well,  who  would  have  thought  he  was  only 
a  fair-weather  friend  after  all ! ' 

He  did  not  know,  poor  fellow,  all  that  the 
(  fair-weather  friend  '  had  borne,  and  was  bear 
ing,  for  his  sake  ;  he  could  not  see  him  sitting 
gazing  out  to  sea  hour  after  hour,  with  eyes 
that  saw  nothing,  and  ears  to  which  the  long 
wash  of  the  waves  upon  the  beach  kept 
always  calling  '  Tim,  Tim  ! '  in  the  never-to- 
be-forgotten  tones  that  he  had  heard  but  the 
other  day  in  the  old  manor-house  garden. 

But  when  things  are  at  their  worst  they 
generally  mend,  and  Carol  presently  found  a 
star  rising  on  his  night  that  promised  to 
comfort  him  not  a  little.  It  was  about  this 
time  that  Miss  Markham  Willis,  finding  that 
the  role  she  had  assumed  was  anything  but 
an  easy  or  pleasant  one,  finding  too  that  the 


278  TIM  CHAP. 

obnoxious  Tim  had  gone  away,  and  seeing 
that  Carol  looked  delightfully  miserable  as 
he  made  her  a  fine  sarcastic  bow  when  they 
occasionally  met  in  their  walks  or  rides,  began 
wisely  to  consider  that  it  did  not  make  her 
domestic  worries  easier  to  bear  to  cut  her 
self  off  from  her  principal  extraneous  source 
of  enjoyment,  and  so  determined  to  take  pity 
on  her  lover,  and  show  him  some  signs  of 
kindness.  At  first  these  only  took  the  form 
of  a  few  gracious  smiles.  Then  finding  that 
these  had  not  quite  the  effect  she  desired,  she 
made  her  mother  take  her  to  call  at  the  Court, 
and  there,  as  she  had  hoped,  was  Carol. 

1  Why,  Lily  dear,  —  I  mean  Violet ! '  cried 
old  Mrs.  Darley,  '  I  declare  you  are  quite  a 
stranger  ;  where  have  you  hidden  yourself  all 
these  days  ? ' 

'  Oh !  there  has  been  so  much  to  do  at 
home,  dear  Mrs.  Darley/  answered  Violet,  all 
radiant  with  smiles,  and  glowing  on  Carol  at 
second-hand  through  grandmamma.  'You 
know  Fraulein  has  gone  away  for  a  holiday,  so 


xii  TIM  279 

I  have  all  the  children  on  my  hands  from 
morning  till  night.  I  never  appreciated  poor 
Fraulein  before  ;  but  now  I  have  had  a  taste 
of  what  her  life  is,  I  feel  quite  differently 
towards  her ;  if  it  was  only  the  bread- 
and-butter.  I  assure  you,  I  rival  Goethe's 
Charlotte  in  the  art  of  cutting  bread-and- 
butter.' 

*  Dear,    dear,    do    young    folks    read    the 
sorrows  of  What's-his-name  nowadays  ?     My 
poor  dear  mother   never  would   allow  us  to. 
She   said  it   was    a  dreadful  book,  and  that 
when  it  first  came  out  it  made   all  the  young 
men  commit  suicide.     To  tell  the  truth,  when 
I  did  read  it,  I  didn't  think  it  very  interesting, 
but  perhaps  I  am  not  a  good  judge.     You  do 
take  sugar,  Mrs.  Wilkins,  don't  you  ? ' 

*  Please   yes,    a   little ;    thank    you,    quite 
enough.      I  do  hope,  Mrs.  Darley,   I  haven't 
let  Violet  read  anything  improper ;  what  you 
said  just    now   about    that   book,  you  know. 
But    Fraulein     told    me    all    young     ladies 
read    it   in   Germany  as   being   a   classic.      I 


280  TIM  CHAP. 

don't    read     German    myself,    but    I    placed 
reliance  on  her.' 

Carol  meanwhile  held  obstinately  in  the 
background,  looking  black  as  a  thunder-cloud, 
and  strongly  inclined  to  compare  himself 
with  the  other  unfortunate  who  was  cursed 
with  love  for  a  woman  that  cut  bread-and- 
butter.  But  when  the  visitors  rose  to  take 
leave,  while  the  elders  were  making  their 
little  farewell  speeches,  Violet  took  occasion 
to  say  to  him  in  an  undertone,  and  with  a 
look  of  gentlest  expostulation— 

'  Are  you  angry  with  me,  Carol  ?  you 
haven't  been  to  see  us  for  an  age  ;  won't  you 
come  and  see  us  again  ? ' 

Had  he  been  dreaming  ?  he  wondered  ;  was 
it  all  a  mistake  of  his,  this  fancied  coldness 
on  her  part  ?  She  spoke  with  such  entire 
innocence,  a  little  justly  hurt,  but  ready  to 
forgive,  that  he  began  to  think  it  must  have 
been  his  fault.  His  resentment  was  not  proof 
against  this  ;  he  pressed  the  little handshe  held 
out  to  him,  and  promised  to  come  next  day. 


XII 


TIM  281 


'  I  am  going  primrosing  in  the  morning/ 
she  said,  '  in  Fern  Dingle,  so  it  is  no  good 
coming  then.' 

And  on  the  way  home  she  seemed  in  such 
high  spirits,  that  her  mother  stole  her  hand 
into  hers  and  asked  her  what  she  had  said  to 
Carol.  But  Violet  for  all  answer  trilled  out 
the  words  of  an  old  catch — 

The  falling  out  of  faithful  friends,  renewal  is  of  love, 

until  the  woods  echoed  to  her  bright  clear 
singing  ;  and  then,  putting  her  arm  round  her 
mother,  she  said,  '  Silly  mamma/  and  kissed 
her. 

Of  course  Carol  vowed  to  himself  that 
nothing  should  tempt  him  to  go  near  Fern 
Dingle  the  next  morning,  and  of  course  he 
went ;  and  there,  over  the  big  half-filled 
basket  of  primroses,  the  lovers  made  up  this 
not  very  terrible  quarrel.  Violet  was  half 
contrite,  half  reproachful,  wholly  gentle  and 
charming. 

'  Had  she  been  sulky  ?  she  half  feared  so  ; 
but  she  had  been  dreadfully  busy,  and  the 


282  TIM  CHAP. 

children  had  been  a  little  tiresome  sometimes, 
and  she  had  been  rather  out  of  sorts.  Carol 
must  forgive  her  if  she  had  unwittingly  hurt 
him;  how  could  he  suppose  she  meant  any 
thing  ;  he  ought  to  have  known  she  didn't.' 

And  Carol,  we  may  be  sure,  was  not  very 
hard  to  melt.  He  began,  on  the  contrary,  to 
feel  that  it  was  he  who  was  in  the  wrong 
for  having  doubted  Violet's  constancy ;  but 
for  this  he,  in  his  turn,  received  absolution, 
and  was  presently  taken  back  into  favour. 

As  to  Tim,  his  name  was  not  mentioned 
between  them ;  if  they  thought  about  him 
at  all,  which  is  unlikely,  they  certainly  did 
not  waste  these  precious  moments  in  talking 
about  him.  Violet's  little  spurt  of  indigna 
tion  against  him  was  of  the  most  transitory 
nature ;  had  she  recollected  it,  it  would  have 
been  to  be  rather  ashamed  of  it ;  besides,  he 
was  gone  away,  and  that  was  enough  ;  and 
Carol  would  certainly  not  have  introduced  a 
subject  on  which  he  was  feeling  a  little  sore. 
Violet  was  restored  to  him  ;  the  first  cloud 


xii  TIM  283 

that  had  shadowed  his  young  brightness 
had  rolled  away ;  and  nothing  else  seemed  to 
matter  much.  He  went  back  to  Cambridge 
in  a  far  more  peaceful  frame  of  mind,  and 
plunged  with  robust  cheerfulness  into  all  the 
pleasures  of  the  May  term. 

One  day  the  old  Squire,  meeting  Mr. 
Ebbesley  on  the  road,  stopped  his  pony  to 
ask  after  Tim. 

'  Sorry  to  hear  your  boy  was  not  quite 
strong,  Ebbesley/  he  said  kindly. 

'Thank  you,'  said  Mr.  Ebbesley;  'he  is 
quite  well  again  now,  and  gone  back  to  school.' 

'  Ah  !  I  must  tell  Carol  when  I  write  ;  he'll 
be  glad  to  hear  it ;  the  boys  are  fond  of  one 
another  ;  but  most  likely  the  young  'un  will 
be  writing  to  him  himself.' 

'Ah!  by  the  way,  Mr.  Barley,  that 
reminds  me,  if  you  are  writing  to  your 
grandson,  will  you  kindly  say  my  boy  hopes 
he  will  excuse  his  not  writing  to  him  at 
present?  he  has  to  read  rather  hard  for  his 
upper  division  trials,  and  by  the  doctor's 


284  TIM  CHAP, 

advice,  I  discourage  his  working  his  brain 
in  other  ways,  too/ 

'  Quite  right,  quite  right.  When  I  was  a 
lad  we  didn't  write  letters  much.  To  be 
sure,  it  was  before  the  penny  post ;  but  I 
can't  say  I  should  have  used  it  much  if  it 
had  been  invented.  I  never  was  a  good 
correspondent ;  I  don't  think  I  ever  wrote 
to  my  poor  dear  father  when  I  was  a  lad 
except  when  I  wanted  money,  which  I 
generally  didn't  get.  Well,  good-bye.  Can 
you  come  and  dine  with  us,  Tuesday  ?' 

'  Thank  you,  but  I  am  obliged  to  go  to 
town  again  to-morrow.' 

And  so  the  two  men  separated ;  and,  the 
Squire's  memory  not  being  of  the  best, 
Carol  never  got  the  message. 

It  was  quite  true  ;  Tim  was  trying  very 
hard  to  drown  in  work  the  recollection  of 
his  troubles.  It  is  not  easy  to  take  bodily 
out  of  one's  life  a  sentiment,  the  growth  of 
nearly  eight  years,  and  not  feel  the  change  ; 
and  Tim's  was  not  a  nature  to  which  changes 


xii  TIM  285 

came  easily.  To  take  his  devotion  to  Carol 
out  of  his  life,  did  I  say  ?  Why,  it  was  his 
life ;  it  had  begun  when  he  first  began  to 
feel  anything,  and  had  grown  with  his  growth 
ever  since.  In  some  fantastic  way  every 
thing  else  in  the  world  seemed  to  cluster 
round  that  central  point ;  nothing  was  of 
interest  until  he  had  somehow  brought  it 
into  relation  with  this  ruling  and  pervading 
sentiment.  And  it  was  this  that  he  had 
undertaken  to  cast  from  him  and  forget. 
He  felt  as  some  flower  might  which  a  child 
had  plucked  from  its  root,  and  then  stuck 
back  in  the  ground  expecting  it  to  go  on 
growing  as  heretofore. 

As  often  happens,  after  the  very  cold 
winter  came  an  unusually  hot  summer.  The 
air  seemed  to  pulse  and  vibrate.  Scarcely 
a  leaf  stirred  of  the  lime-trees  before  the 
chapel,  heavy  and  odorous  with  their  wealth 
of  blossom,  and  drowsy  with  the  hum  of 
innumerable  bees.  The  boys  grew  languid 
and  listless  over  their  lessons,  and  even  over 


286  TIM  CHAP. 

their  games.  They  fell  asleep  in  three 
o'clock  school,  an  offence  with  which  the 
masters  could  not  in  their  hearts  but  feel  a 
secret  sympathy.  The  dust  seemed  to  spring 
eternal,  almost  from  under  the  very  hose  of  the 
water-cart  that  went  ceaselessly  to  and  fro 
through  the  highways  of  the  old  school,  and 
the  pelargoniums  and  fuchsias  drooped  in  the 
window-boxes,  because  their  owners  had  not 
the  energy  to  water  them.  Eton  is  a  healthy 
place,  in  spite  of  all  its  enemies  say  to  the 
contrary,  and  the  life  there  is  for  most  boys 
the  healthiest  that  could  be  devised.  But 
Tim  was  not  as  most  boys.  To  him,  to  eat, 
sleep,  and  study  in  one  small  room,  to  wear 
a  high  hat  and  a  tight  black  cloth  coat,  with 
the  thermometer  at  something  fabulous  in 
the  shade,  was  very  trying.  The  heat  that 
made  other  lads  drowsy  and  languid,  roused 
him  to  unnatural  and  feverish  alertness  ;  so 
far  from  sleeping  in  school,  he  did  not  sleep 
at  all.  When  we  reflect  that  in  addition  to 
this  he  was  fretting  day  and  night  over  his 


xii  TIM  287 

hidden  sorrow, — a  sorrow  from  which  he  was 
persistently  trying  to  find  escape  in  extra 
hard  work,  in  spite  of  headaches  and  other 
warning  signs, — the  result  is  not  difficult  to 
foretell.  What  wonder  if  he  broke  down  ? 
He  never  went  in  for  those  upper  division 
trials.  One  day  he  did  not  come  to  dinner, 
he  the  soul  of  regularity ;  and  when  they 
went  to  look  for  him  they  found  him  stretched 
on  the  floor  of  his  room,  his  face  white  and 
set,  his  eyes  open,  but  with  no  consciousness 
in  them.  They  put  him  to  bed  and  sent  for 
the  doctor,  who  pronounced  it  a  curious 
case. 

'It  is  no  doubt  partly  the  heat,'  he  said, 
'  and  he  has  been  working  too  hard  ;  but  he 
must  have  been  in  a  wretched  state  of  health 
to  begin  with  ;  neither  the  weather  nor  his 
work  is  enough  to  account  for  it.' 

'  He  has  never  been  very  strong,'  answered 
his  tutor,  '  and  lately  I  have  noticed  that  he 
has  been  working  very  hard,  harder  than 
was  necessary  even.  I  have  had  once  or 


288  TIM  CHAP. 

twice  to  put  on  the  drag,  a  thing  I  am  very 
seldom  forced  to  do.' 

'  He  must  have  perfect  rest  and  quiet, 
and  must  not  write  or  read  even  the  lightest 
books  for  a  long  time  to  come  ;  when  he  is 
able  to  bear  the  move,  he  had  better  be 

taken  home.' 

• 

So  the  tutor  went  and  wrote  a  kind 
sympathetic  letter  to  Mr.  Ebbesley,  telling 
him  his  son  was  ill.  How  ill  he  thought 
him  he  took  care  not  to  say,  but  he  did 
say  enough  to  carry  an  awful  dread  to  the 
father's  heart.  A  chill  foreboding  seized 
upon  him,  and  would  not  be  shaken  off, — a 
presentiment  that  he  was  to  lose  his  child, 
that  child  so  zealously  longed  for,  so  little 
appreciated,  and  yet  in  a  way  so  deeply 
loved. 

William  Ebbesley  was  in  no  sense  of  the 
word  religious  ;  the  rough  struggle  with  the 
world  that  had  filled  his  early  years  had  not 
tended  to  bring  him  into  the  devotional  atti 
tude,  nor  had  he  ever  been  visited  by  one  of 


xii  TIM  289 

those  overwhelming  joys  that  sweep  the  soul, 
whatever  the  nature  of  its  beliefs,  with  an 
imperious  necessity  for  giving  thanks.  And 
great  and  terrible  as  had  been  some  of  his 
sorrows,  they  had  been  such  as  harden  and 
embitter  rather  than  the  reverse.  But  now 
he  felt  in  some  dim  way  a  kind  of  wonder  if 
this  were  intended  as  a  punishment  to  him 
for  the  little  regard  he  had  paid  to  the  one 
blessing  of  his  life,  which,  in  that  it  did  not 
bless  him  in  strict  accord  with  his  own 
notions  of  what  he  desired,  he  had  flung 
from  him  so  carelessly,  the  priceless  gem  of 
his  child's  love.  How  that  child  could  love, 
he  had  seen  ;  and  till  now  the  thought  that 
the  love  was  not  for  him  but  another,  had 
chafed  and  angered  him.  Now  he  was 
humbled  by  it.  Who  could  say  but  that 
had  he  tried,  he  might  have  turned  at  least 
some  streamlet  of  those  freshening  waters 
into  his  own  parched  and  rugged  field  ? 

There  was  an  old  woman  once  to  whom 
certain   kind   friends   of   mine   used   to   send 


290  TIM  CHAP. 

her  dinner.  She  was  quite  past  work,  and 
absolutely  destitute,  except  for  what  was 
bestowed  upon  her  in  charity,  but  if  the 
victuals  were  not  to  her  taste  she  would 
send  them  back.  Was  it  that  by  so  doing 
she  got  better  ones  ?  On  the  contrary,  the 
alternative  was  to  fast,  and  indeed  to  risk 
offending  the  givers,  and  so  cutting  herself 
off  from  the  alms  for  ever.  The  proverb 
that  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread,  is 
one  to  which  we  all  give  assent  with  our 
lips,  but  few  people,  if  any,  are  found  will 
ing  to  make  it  a  rule  of  conduct.  They  will 
have  a  whole  loaf,  new  and  soft,  of  the  finest 
wheaten  flour,  and  baked  just  as  they  choose, 
or  they  will  eat  no  bread,  though  they  starve 
for  it.  These  are  perhaps  somewhat  homely 
illustrations  for  the  state  of  mind  of  a  father 
half  wild  with  grief  and  self-reproach  over  a 
dying  son.  For  something  told  him,  as  I 
have  said,  that  the  gift  which  he  had  so 
recklessly  cast  aside,  would  never  be  his  now. 
His  boy  would  die,  and  would  never  know 


xii  TIM  291 

how  much  he  really  loved  him.  If  he  could 
only  win  him  back  to  life,  only  make  him 
think  a  little  more  kindly  of  his  father,  he 
felt  that  nothing  else  mattered. 

He  went  and  fetched  Tim  home  himself, 
and  when  he  saw  how  ill  and  fragile  the  lad 
looked,  his  heart  died  within  him  ;  he  longed 
to  fall  on  his  knees  by  him  and  tell  him  how 
he  loved  him,  and  implore  him  not  to  leave 
him.  But  the  doctor  had  cautioned  him  to 
betray  no  emotion,  and  to  conceal  as  far  as 
possible  any  shock  he  might  experience  at 
his  son's  appearance. 

At  first  for  a  few  days  Tim  suffered  from 
a  raging  pain  in  the  head  ;  he  could  bear  no 
light  and  no  sound,  and  they  feared  that 
he  would  have  brain  fever.  Then  suddenly 
the  pain  left  him,  but  left  him  so  exhausted 
that  he  hardly  seemed  alive.  Still,  weak  as 
he  was,  the  doctor  thought  he  had  better 
be  taken  away  from  school,  and  his  father 
carried  him  back  to  the  old  manor-house 
where  his  childhood  had  past.  As  though 


292  TIM  CHAP. 

to  mock  William  Ebbesley's  grief  by  violent 
contrast  to  the  pale  and  feeble  Tim,  it  was 
the  time  of  year  when  the  earth  is  most 
instinct  with  buoyant  and  vibrating  life,— 
July,  when  the  last  crowning  touch  has  been 
put  to  the  long  work  of  spring,  while  no 
foreshadowing  of  the  yet  distant  autumn  has 
fallen  on  any  leaf.  The  lilies  were  in  their 
tallest,  whitest  majesty,  the  roses  blushed 
and  glowed  in  the  old  garden,  where,  a  few 
weeks  before,  Tim  had  hidden  himself  from 
the  voice  of  his  friend. 

'  I  never  see  such  a  year,  sir,'  said  the 
gardener  ;  '  everything  is  a-doing  better  than 
I've  ever  known  it  since  I've  lived  here.' 

Yes.  Everything.  Everything  but  that 
one  blossom  for  which  he  would  gladly  have 
bartered  all  the  wealth  of  sunny  fruit  and 
folded  petals,  and  on  which  a  frosty  hand 
had  been  laid  in  the  midst  of  all  the  warmth 
of  summer.  For  Mrs.  Quitchett's  old  friend 
the  doctor,  who  had  known  Tim  from  a  baby, 
did  not  dare  conceal  from  the  poor  father  his 


xii  TIM  293 

belief  that  the  lad  would  die.  How  soon  he 
could  not  say  ;  he  might  even  be  wrong,  and 
Tim  might  take  a  turn  and  begin  to  gain 
strength  ;  but  he  was  afraid  to  hope  it.  The 
little  stock  of  life  in  him  seemed  to  be  ebbing 
away.  He  might  go  on  for  a  year,  or  it 
might  be  much  sooner;  it  was  impossible 
to  say. 

'  And  could  nothing  be  done  ? '  asked  the 
father.  '  Were  there  no  new  remedies  he 
could  try,  no  learned  men  to  consult,  no 
places  or  climates  in  which  the  flickering 
young  life  would  have  a  better  chance  to 
reassert  itself  ? ' 

The  old  doctor's  voice  trembled  as  he 
answered.  He  was  almost  as  fond  of  the 
child  himself,  and  he  grasped  Mr.  Ebbesley's 
hand  and  spoke  very  gently.  '  I  should 
only  be  deceiving  you  if  I  said  "  yes  "  ;  of 
course  consult  any  one  you  will,  if  it  will  be 
any  comfort  to  you  ;  but  they  will  only  say 
the  same  thing.  There  is  no  organic  disease  ; 
he  is  dying  of  sheer  weakness,  and  to  drag 


294  TIM  CHAP. 

him  about  the  world  will  only  use  up  the 
little  stock  of  strength  he  has  left.  If,  as 
God  grant,  he  takes  a  turn  and  lives  till  the 
winter,  then  I  don't  say  but  it  would  be  well 
to  try  a  better  climate.  But  at  present  he  is 
as  well  off  here  as  anywhere.' 

So,  then,  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  nothing 
to  do  but  to  watch  his  child  fade  slowly  from 
him,  to  see  him  grow  whiter,  thinner,  more 
easily  tired  day  by  day. 

The  Darleys  were  all  away,  and  Violet 
was  with  them.  The  Court  was  shut  up, 
and  Tim  might  have  wandered  up  there 
without  any  fear  of  meeting  Carol.  But  he 
found,  when  he  tried  it,  that  even  this  walk, 
short  as  it  was,  was  beyond  his  powers,  and 
this,  coming  upon  him  with  a  vague  surprise, 
was  the  first  intimation  to  him  of  how  ill  he 
really  was.  He  thought  of  the  old  childish 
days  when  he  had  skimmed  across  the  fields 
for  miles  round  his  home,  and  the  Court 
woods  had  been  but  the  beginning  of  his 
rambles. 


xii  TIM  295 

Mrs.  Quitchett  thought  of  those  days 
too,  and  wept  when  she  compared  the  child, 
small  and  frail,  it  is  true,  but  lithe  and  active 
as  a  young  squirrel,  with  the  figure  of  the 
slim  lad  of  sixteen  that  moved  so  slowly 
round  the  garden  paths.  (Who  would  ha' 
thought,  who  would  ha'  thought  that  see'd 
us  two,'  sobbed  the  poor  old  woman,  'that 
he  was  the  one  the  Lord  would  take  first  to 
Himself!'  But  to  Tim  she  showed  a  smiling 
front,  watching  every  sign,  indefatigable  in 
her  zeal  to  miss  no  attention  that  might  do 
good,  and  never  admitting  for  a  moment  that 
he  was  not  getting  better. 

As  the  Ethiopian  cannot  change  his  skin, 
so  was  it  not  given  to  William  Ebbesley  in 
an  instant  to  alter  his  whole  nature ;  such 
changes  do  not  happen  in  real  life  ;  and  even 
now  he  caught  himself  sometimes  speaking 
half-sharply  to  Tim,  when  the  struggle  within 
him  was  almost  more  than  he  could  bear. 
But  the  boy  did  not  feel  afraid  of  him  any 
longer ;  it  seemed  as  though  he  had  some 


296  TIM  CHAP. 

intuition  of  all  that  his  father  was  suffering 
and  had  suffered  on  his  account ;  he  was 
beginning  to  understand  him,  and  in  the 
place  of  his  old  fear  there  welled  up  in  his 
heart  an  infinite  pity. 

One  day,  when  Mr.  Ebbesley  had  brought 
out  cushions  with  which  to  make  the  garden 
seat  easy  and  soft  for  him,  and  was  turning 
to  go,  as  he  usually  did  after  shyly  proffer 
ing  some  such  little  act  of  tenderness, 
Tim  laid  one  of  his  thin  white  hands  on 
his,  saying,  '  You  are  very  good  to  me, 
father.' 

'  Oh  !  my  boy,  my  little  son/  burst  out  the 
poor  man,  '  I  have  been  a  very  hard  father 
to  you.  I  see  it  all  now  ;  I  thought,  I  meant 
to  do  what  was  right,  but  I  have  been  very 
cruel.  Oh !  if  I  could  only  atone !  but  you 
will  never  forgive  me,  never  love  me 
now.' 

The  cry  that  had  been  stifling  him  was 
uttered  at  last,  the  proud  man  had  humbled 
himself,  the  thin  partition  that  for  eight  years 


xii  TIM  297 

had  kept  these  two  apart  had  crumbled  and 
let  them  find  one  another. 

Tim  for  all  answer  put  up  his  other  arm 
and  drew  his  father's  head  down  upon  his 
breast,  and  so  for  a  little  space  they  sat  quite 
silent.  After  a  time  Tim  said  very  simply, 
'  Do  you  remember  the  talk  we  had  about 
my  grandmother  ?  You  said  all  her  family 
died  young  ;  I  think  /  shall  die  this  summer.' 

His  father  could  not  speak  :  he  could  not 
contradict  him,  he  could  only  fold  him  more 
closely  in  his  arms  ;  and  it  was  Tim  who 
spoke  again. 

'  You  mustn't  fret  for  me,  father ;  I  am 
surprised  myself  to  find  how  little  I  mind 
the  thought ;  I  think  I  am  rather  glad.  But 
there  is  something  I  have  wanted  to  say.  I 
am  afraid  I  have  not  been  all  you  wished  ; 
I  have  disappointed  and  vexed  you.  Do 

you  forgive  me  ? ' 

< 

Still  his  father  could  not  trust  himself  to 
answer  save  by  that  convulsive  hold ;  the 
words  meant  to  ask  pardon  set  themselves 


298  TIM  CHAP,  xii 

in  array  against  him  like  accusing  angels. 
What  words  could  he  find  strong  enough  to 
express  all  he  was  feeling  ?  But  Tim  smiled 
and  was  satisfied.  He  seemed  as  though  he 
understood. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

.  .  .   Even  the  weariest  river 
Winds,  somewhere,  safe  to  sea. 

SWINBURNE'S  Garden  of  Proserpine. 

As  the  weeks  succeeded  each  other,  one 
thought  was  ever  present  in  the  mind  of  Tim. 
'Shall  I  see  him  again  before  I  die?  It 
can  do  him  no  harm  now.  I  shall  so  soon 
be  out  of  the  way ;  I  cannot  come  between 
him  and  his  love  any  more.' 

As  his  poor  hands,  whose  hold  on  this 
world  was  loosening  day  by  day,  grew 
thinner  and  more  transparent,  his  face  paler, 
his  step  slower  upon  the  gravel,  his  heart 
yearned  ever  with  a  patient  longing  for  just 
one  more  sight  of  the  friend  to  whom  his 
whole  life  had  been  true.  But  he  had  given 


300  TIM  CHAP. 

the  crowning  proof  of  his  devotion — renun 
ciation.  The  arms  that  should  have  been 
upholding  him  in  his  last  sore  struggle,  he 
had  himself  unclasped  ;  the  dear  lips  and 
eyes  that  should  even  now  be  smiling  on  his 
sick-bed,  his  own  free  act  had  sent  far  away 
from  him. 

'  He  will  never  know  that  I  was  true  to 
him.  I  shall  never  see  him  again.'  Through 
all  the  long  empty  hours  this  one  cry  repeats 
itself  in  his  soul.  All  the  little  life  that  is  left 
to  him  seems  concentrated  in  this  one  intense 
longing  for  Carol.  To  see  his  face,  to  hear 
his  loved  voice  again,  if  only  for  a  moment ;  to 
tell  him  the  truth  at  last ;  only  once,  just  once, 
before  he  died.  And  yet  even  now  he  could 
not  put  his  thought  into  words, — could  not 
bring  himself  to  make  this  last  request  to  his 
father. 

As  for  Mr.  Ebbesley,  he  too  was  troubled 
by  one  thought  which  he  could  not  find 
the  courage  to  speak.  He  was  always 
with  Tim  now.  It  was  his  arm  which  sup- 


xni  TIM  301 

ported  the  boy  into  the  garden  where  he 
loved  to  sit,  and  back  to  the  house ;  no 
tending  could  have  been  more  loving,  more 
sympathetic.  But,  as  I  have  said,  no  one 
changes  his  whole  nature  at  a  leap,  even  in 
the  great  crises  of  life;  and  there  was  yet 
one  struggle  to  be  made  with  his  pride 
before  perfect  ease  and  confidence  could 
exist  between  them. 

.  Hour  after  hour  would  Tim  lie  silent  and 
uncomplaining,  yearning  for  Carol,  but  dread 
ing  to  endanger  the  new-found  treasure  of 
his  father's  love ;  dreading  to  see  the  old 
cloud  settle  on  the  face  that  he  was  watching, 
the  hard  look  grow  round  the  mouth,  as  it 
was  wont  to  do  when  in  the  old  days  he 
had  been  obliged  to  mention  his  friend's 
name.  And  William  Ebbesley  would  sit 
beside  him  all  the  while,  divining  his 
thoughts,  knowing  there  was  one  supreme 
proof  of  his  affection  to  be  given  to  his  son, 
one  sacrifice  that  he  could  make  for  him,  one 
happiness  that  he  could  give  him,  and  long- 


302  TIM  CHAP. 

ing  to  make  the  effort,  yet  ever  just  kept 
from  it  by  some  strange  inexplicable  shyness 
and  reserve.  For  a  long  time  he  hoped  that 
Tim  would  break  the  silence,  would  be  the 
first  to  approach  the  subject ;  but  at  last  he 
saw  that  that  was  not  to  be  hoped,  and  he 
was  half  angry  with  himself  for  the  cowardice 
that  made  him  wish  to  shift  this  burthen  to 
those  poor  weak  shoulders.  No.  It  was 
clearly  for  him  to  take  the  first  step  ;  had  he 
not  ardently  desired  some  way  of  showing 
his  devotion  to  his  son,  and  when  he  had  it, 
was  it  possible  that  he  should  hesitate  ? 

So  one  evening  when  they  had  been 
watching  the  sunset,  which  had  left  a  sham 
glow  on  Tim's  white  cheeks,  William 
Ebbesley,  holding  his  son's  hand,  and  with 
face  half- turned  away,  said  suddenly,  'Tim, 
dear,  you  have  not  everything  you  want ; 
there  is  one  thing  I  have  not  done  for  you.' 

There  was  a  real  glow  in  Tim's  cheeks 
now  ;  the  sunset  light  had  faded,  but  in  its 
place  an  inward  radiance,  brighter  but  almost 


xin  TIM  303 

as  transient,  had  spread  over  the  delicate 
face.  Feeling  his  grasp  tighten,  his  father 
stole  a  look  at  him,  and  even  then  a  pang 
shot  through  him  at  the  thought  of  the  love 
that  had  called  forth  this  happy  flush  at  the 
bare  chance  of  a  meeting,  the  love  that  was 
not  for  him,  that  might  perhaps  have  been  his. 

'  Oh,  father  !  you  mean '  Tim  began 

tremulously,  and  paused ;  he  dared  hardly 
complete  the  sentence  even  in  his  own 
mind. 

William  Ebbesley  choked  down  the  last 
touch  of  the  old  jealousy.  '  I  will  write 
to-night,'  he  said  quietly,  answering  the 
other's  unspoken  thought. 

But  a  new  trouble  had  fallen  on  Tim. 
'Will  he  come?'  he  said  half  to  himself; 
and  then,  '  Oh  yes.  If  I  know  him  for  the 
kind,  generous  Carol  I  think  him,  he  will 
surely  come.' 

Then  he  asked,  *  Father,  may  /  write  ? ' 

'  You  know,  dear  boy,  the  doctor  has 
forbidden  you  to  write  a  word.' 


304  TIM  CHAP. 

'  Yes,  I  know  ;  but  this  will  do  me  good. 
I  shall  not  be  easy  unless  I  may.' 

'  Won't  it  do  if  you  dictate  to  me  ? ' 

'No.  I  must  write  myself;  nothing  else 
will  do.1 

'Well,  if  you  are  sure  it  will  not  tire  you.' 
And  he  went  and  brought  the  writing  things. 

Tim  took  them  eagerly,  and  was  beginning 
to  write,  when  he  stopped  suddenly  and 
looked  up.  '  Father,  forgive  me  ;  I  am 
selfish.  You  are  sorry  at  this.' 

It  was  so  unexpected,  the  little  impulse 
of  unselfish  consideration,  that  at  its  contact 
the  last  drop  of  bitterness  fell  from  the 
father's  heart,  and  in  his  eyes  for  the  first 
time  for  more  years  than  he  could  remember 
shone  the  blessed  healing  tears  to  which  he 
had  so  long  been  a  stranger. 

1  No,  no,  my  darling,'  he  faltered  hastily  ; 

'  whatever  makes  'you  happy — I '  then 

his  voice  broke,  and  he  could  not  finish. 

1  God  bless  you,  dear  dear  father,  I  am 
quite  happy  now.' 


xin  TIM  305 

And  this  was  Tim's  letter :  '  I  am  very 
ill,  Carol — dying,  I  think.  Dear  Carol,  if  I 
have  seemed  ungrateful,  can  you  and  will 
you  forgive  me  ?  I  could  explain  to  you  if 
I  had  you  here,  but  I  can't  write.  Come 
to  me,  Carol  dear. — Your  loving  TIM.' 

'  Father.' 

'  Yes,  dear.' 

'  Do  you  want  to  see  what  I  have 
written  ? ' 

'  No,  my  boy,  no.' 

Mr.  Ebbesley  took  the  letter  and  sealed 
it ;  then  he  sent  it  to  the  address  that  he 
had  already  got  from  the  servants  at  the 
Court. 

Whether  it  was  the  reaction  from  the 
tense  longing  in  which  he  had  been  living, 
or  merely  that  as  his  strength  decreased  the 
change  in  him  grew  more  apparent,  Tim 
seemed  to  get  worse  much  more  quickly 
after  his  letter  had  gone. 

The  doctor  came  and  went,  shaking  his 
head  sadly,  and  saying,  '  It  is  quicker  than 

x 


306  TIM  CHAP. 

I  thought,'  and  despair  settled  clown  upon 
the  two  watchers  by  the  sick  boy. 

But  still  Tim  waited  day  by  day  for  the 
answer  that  was  to  bring  peace  to  his  soul. 
Life  was  slipping  away  too  fast.  '  Oh ! 
come,  Carol,'  he  would  whisper,  'or  it  may 
be  too  late  ;  she  will  surely  spare  you  just 
for  a  little.' 

Tim  had  been  at  home  nearly  a  month 
now  ;  the  blazing  July  weather  had  ended  in 
a  rather  wet  August.  All  around,  the  harvest 
lay  beaten  down  by  the  rain  ;  not  the  only 
grain  stricken  ere  it  had  come  to  maturity. 
One  evening,  after  a  more  than  usually 
dreary  day,  the  clouds  had  broken,  giving 
place  to  a  gorgeous  sunset.  Tim  had  been 
placed  on  a  sofa  in  the  open  window,  from 
which  he  could  watch  the  purple  and  crimson 
and  gold,  and  the  delicate  green  and  lilac 
tints  of  the  western  sky  ;  the  same  sofa  on 
which  he  had  lain  eight  years  before,  ponder 
ing  on  his  'angel,'  and  had  seen  Carol  come 
in  with  his  offering  of  grapes. 


xin  TIM  30? 

'Father.' 

'  Yes,  my  boy.'  He  knew  too  well  what 
question  was  coming. 

'  Has  the  postman  been  ? ' 

'  Yes,  dear.' 

Alas!  no  letter.  Tim  did  not  even  ask, 
knowing  that  if  there  were  one,  it  would  be 
given  to  him  at  once.  He  closed  his  eyes 
and  lay  quite  still.  His  father  looked  wearily 
out  of  the  window  ;  he  knew  what  was  pass 
ing  in  the  lad's  mind,  and  had  come  to  desire 
the  letter  almost  as  much  as  the  sick  boy 
himself. 

The  air  was  cool  and  fresh.  The  garden 
was  yielding  a  thousand  scents  to  the  soft 
touch  of  the  summer  rain.  The  setting  sun 
lit  little  coloured  lamps  in  the  large  drops 
that  hung  from  every  leaf  of  the  grateful 
trees  and  shrubs  ;  the  birds  kept  up  a  drowsy 
twittering.  A  few  knowing  old  blackbirds 
and  thrushes,  well  aware  that  the  moisture 
brings  out  the  fine  fat  worms,  were  hopping 
about  on  the  grass-plot  in  search  of  their 


308  TIM  CHAP. 

supper.  All  sounds  were  strangely  distinct 
that  evening. 

Hark !  what  was  that  ?  surely  a  step  on 
the  wet  gravel  ;  not  old  Richard  the 
gardener's  step.  No,  it  was  a  young  foot 
that  struck  the  ground  lightly,  and  scrunched 
stoutly  along  the  little  approach  to  the  house. 
Tim's  ears  had  caught  the  sound,  and  he 
started  up  from  his  pillows,  his  cheeks 
aflame,  his  eyes  bright  and  eager,  while 
his  heart  beat  loud  and  fast.  He  would 
know  that  dear  step  among  a  thousand. 

He  had  come — at  last,  at  last ! 

Mr.  Ebbesley  stole  noiselessly  away,  with 
a  heavy  dull  ache  in  his  heart,  and  I  am  afraid 
neither  of  the  friends  noticed  his  absence. 
In  the  same  room,  in  the  same  place,  in  the 
same  attitudes  in  which  they  had  met  as 
children,  they  had  come  together  again. 

'  Oh,  Carol !  are  you  come  to  me  ?' 

'  Oh,  my  poor  dear  Tim  !' 

Carol  could  say  no  more.  He  was 
shocked  at  the  havoc  these  few  short  weeks 


xiii  TIM  309 

had  wrought.  A  sacred  silence  rested  be 
tween  them  for  a  few  minutes.  Enough  for 
Tim  that  he  was  there  ;  no  need  of  words. 
Carol  was  the  first  to  speak  ;  his  voice  was 
hushed  and  full  of  awe. 

'  I  was  not  with  my  family  when  your 
letter  came,  dear  Tim,  and  they  did  not 
know  where  to  forward  it  to  me,  as  I  was 
moving  about ;  so  I  never  got  it  for  nearly 
ten  days,  or  I  should  have  been  here  long 
ago.' 

'  Oh,  Carol !  how  good  of  you  to  come. 
I  half  thought  sometimes — forgive  me  for 
doubting  you — but  I  thought  you  might  not 
come  at  all — after — after  the  way  I  treated 
you.' 

'  Don't  let's  talk  of  that  now,  Tim  ;  it's 
past  and  gone.  I  don't  want  you  to  explain  ; 
I  am  content  not  to  understand.  I  remem 
ber  only  the  dear  good  friend  of  the  old 
days,  who  is  come  back  to  me.' 

'  But  I  must  talk  of  it,  please,  Carol ;  I 
must  tell  you  how  it  was.  It  can  do  no  harm 


310  TIM  CHAP. 

now,  and  I  can't  leave  you  thinking  hardly 
of  me,  for  you  know  I  have  not  very  long  to 
live ;  something  tells  me  you  are  come  only 
just  in  time.' 

'  Oh  !  dear  dear  boy,  for  God's  sake, 
don't  talk  like  that,'  said  Carol,  with  a  great 
lump  rising  in  his  throat.  '  You  are  not 
going  to — to '  He  felt  all  the  repug 
nance  of  the  young  and  string  to  face  the 
thought,  or  say  the  word. 

'  To  die.'  Tim  finished  the  sentence  for 
him  quite  simply.  'Yes,  I  think  so.' 

'  No,  no ;  you  will  get  well  and  strong. 
You  must,  for  all  our  sakes.' 

Tim  smiled  and  shook  his  head  ;  it  did 
not  seem  to  him  worth  while  to  argue  the 
point ;  that  was  not  what  he  wanted  to  say. 

'  Never  mind,'  he  said  gently,  in  a  way 
that  put  the  subject  aside  as  unimportant. 
'  If  I  had  lived  I  could  not  have  had  you  with 
me  now.  I  could  never  have  told  you  what 
I  am  going  to  tell  you.  Carol,  will  you 
believe  me  when  I  say  that  I  never  wavered 


xin  TIM  311 

for  an  instant  in  my  love  for  you ;  never 
loved  you  better  than  when  I  seemed  to  give 
you  up  ?'  Tim  was  getting  excited,  and 
Carol,  fearing  it  would  be  bad  for  him,  tried 
in  vain  to  stop  him.  '  Oh,  Carol !  it  was  for 
your  sake  I  did  it ;  will  you  believe  me  when 
I  tell  you  all  this  ?' 

'  For  my  sake,  dear  old  boy  ?  I  don't 
understand  you.'  He  thought  his  friend's 
mind  was  wandering,  but  he  was  very  patient 
and  tender  with  him,  humouring  him,  as  one 
would  a  sick  child. 

'  She  said — I  heard  her  say — that  I  came 
between  you.  You  know,  Carol,  it  was 
when  you  were  so  unhappy  ;  and  then  I  saw 
that  I  was  the  cause  of  it  all ;  and  so  I  de 
termined  not  to  come  between  you  any  more  ; 
and,  indeed,  indeed,  dear  Carol,  I  would  have 
held  my  tongue  for  ever,  only  there  is  no 
more  need  now.  I  could  not  die  and  leave 
you  thinking  ill  of  me.  I  suppose  I  ought 
to  have,  but  I  couldn't  do  it.' 

A  new  light  was  breaking  in  upon   Carol. 


312  TIM  CHAP. 

'  And  did  you  do  all  this  for  me  ?'  he  asked 
wonderingly.  '  Why,  Tim,  I  knew  you  liked 
me  absurdly,  much  more  than  I  deserved, 
but  I  never  dreamt  you  cared  as  much  for 
me  as  that.' 

'  And  you  understand  now,  Carol,  don't 
you,  why  I  didn't  answer  your  dear  letter  ? 
See,  I  have  it  here ;  it  never  leaves  me.' 

'  I  was  a  beast  and  a  fool  to  doubt  you, 
Tim.  How  could  I  ever  have  done  it  ?  but 
it  did  seem  as  though  you  must  be  bored 
with  me  and  my  affairs.  And  all  the  time 
you  were  doing  this  for  me ! ' 

'  Carol,  did  she  mind  your  coming  to 
me  ?  Tell  me  I  have  not  made  fresh  mis 
chief  between  you  ?' 

1  She  was  very  unhappy  when  I  told  her 
how  ill  you  were,  and  she  said,  "  Oh !  go  at 
once  to  him  ;  I  can  guess  what  it  would  be 
to  be  ill  and  wanting  you ;  and  he  has  been 
waiting  so  long  already."  And  then  she 
cried,  and  said  a  great  deal  I  did  not  under 
stand  at  the  time  about  having  been  jealous 


xni  TIM  313 

of  my  friendship  for  you,  and  having  had 
hard  thoughts  of  you  sometimes,  and  that 
she  was  so  ashamed  of  herself  now  that  you 
were  so  ill.  I  was  to  be  sure  and  tell  you, 
and  to  ask  if  you  would  ever  forgive  her.5 

1  There  is  nothing  to  forgive,'  Tim 
answered  indifferently. 

'  But  how  did  you  guess,'  Carol  continued, 
'  how  could  you  imagine  that  she  felt  any 
thing  of  the  sort  ?' 

Then  Tim  told  him  all  that  he  had  over 
heard  Violet  say,  only  softening  it  off,  and 
generalising  a  little  with  fine  tact.  And  then, 
the  floodgates  once  open,  he  went  on  with 
sudden  eloquence,  the  more  touching  from  its 
sheer  simplicity,  and  told  all  the  long  story 
of  his  constant  love,  but  with  as  little  mention 
as  possible  of  his  father  throughout,  and  of 
the  part  he  had  played  in  it.  And  this  short 
hour,  which  some  may  think  was  a  sad  one, 
was  just  the  happiest  of  Tim's  whole  life. 

Carol  listened  in  wonder  and  awe,  not 
unmingled  with  compunction,  as  the  descrip- 


3  H  TIM  CHAP. 

tion  of  the  feeling  he  had  so  unconsciously 
excited  unrolled  itself  before  him.  He  forgot 
himself,  Violet,  his  love  for  her,  everything 
for  the  moment  in  contemplation  of  this 
devotion,  so  single-hearted,  so  lofty,  so  pure 
and  so  unselfish,  which  had  been  his,  all 
his,  and  at  which  he  had  been  so  far  from 
guessing. 

'  I  had  no  idea  of  anything  of  the  kind,' 
he  said,  more  to  himself  than  to  Tim.  '  I 
knew  the  old  people  were  awfully  fond  of 
me,  God  bless  them  ;  and  I  understand  what 
I  feel  for  Violet.  But  this  beats  me;  I've 
always  been  what's  called  popular,  I  suppose. 
I  never  thought  much  about  it,  but  fellows 
have  always  been  jolly  to  me,  and  seemed  to 
like  me.  Oh !  my  dear  friend,  what  have  I 
ever  done  that  you  should  care  about  me  like 
this  ?' 

Tim's  face  lit  up  exultingly.  '  "  Passing  the 
love  of  women,"  '  he  said  ;  '  that  was  it,  Carol, 
wasn't  it?  "Thy  love  to  me  was  wonder 
ful,  passing  the  love  of  women."  Do  you 


xin  TIM  315 

remember  the  day  when  they  read  it  in  the 
lesson  in  chapel  at  Eton  ?' 

Carol  had  forgotten,  but  Tim's  words 
brought  back  the  scene  with  strange  distinct 
ness  :  the  big  chapel  in  its  stillness,  the 
silence  of  a  great  crowd,  and  of  a  crowd 
unused  to  be  still,  the  little  flecks  of  light 
from  the  air  -  holes  in  the  roof,  the  ugly 
picture  of  the  finding  of  Moses  in  the  window 
opposite  his  seat,  the  droning  voice  of  the 
reader,  and  the  flash  of  the  little  face  that 
turned  up  to  his,  with  the  expression  that 
had  puzzled  him  at  the  time. 

(  Yes,  I  remember,'  he  answered. 

'I  have  thought  of  it  so  often  since.  It 
would  be  grand  for  one's  friend  to  be  able 
to  say  that  of  one,  after  one  was  dead.  Put 
your  strong  arms  round  me,  Carol,  and  raise 
me  a  little ;  I  can  talk  better  so.' 

Carol  lifted  the  poor  thin  body  as  easily 
as  a  baby,  and  propped  it  up  on  the 
cushions. 

'  Thank  you,  that  is  better.    Ah!  don't  take 


316  TIM  CHAP. 

your  arms  away  ;  let  me  feel  them  round  me 
for  a  little.  Carol,  when  I  am  buried,  I  want 
those  words  to  be  put  on  the  stone.  My 
father  will  let  it  be  so,  I  know,  if  I  wish  it ; 
I  shall  ask  him  the  last  thing.  But  you  must 
remind  him.' 

'  Oh !  Tim,  I  can't  bear  to  hear  you  talk 
so.  You  mustn't  die  ;  we  all  want  you  so 
much.' 

'  Don't  cry,  Carol ;  you  will  do  as  I  wish, 
won't  you  ?  And,  Carol,  tell  her  how  I  tried 
to  make  things  happy  for  her  and  you  ;  I 
want  her  to  think  kindly  of  me  too.' 

He  laid  his  head  on  his  friend's  breast 
and  closed  his  eyes  ;  the  effort  of  talking  so 
much  had  tired  him.  Carol  thought  he  was 
asleep,  and  dared  not  move  for  fear  of  waking 
him ;  but  by  and  by  he  said,  '  Do  you 
remember,  Carol  ?  I  lay  on  this  sofa  when 
you  first  came  to  see  me  after  the  accident. 
I  had  been  dreaming  of  you  without  knowing 
it ;  I  thought  you  were  an  angel.  And  then 
1  turned  and  saw  you  standing  there  in  the 


xiii  TIM  317 

doorway.  You  kissed  me  that  day,  Carol. 
Will  you  kiss  me  now  ?' 

Carol  bowed  his  head  without  a  word 
and  kissed  him.  And  thus  their  friendship 
was  sealed  at  either  end. 

'  Father,'  said  Tim,  after  a  little,  'are 
you  there  ? ' 

'Yes,  my  boy.'  He  had  come  in,  and 
was  standing  a  little  apart  in  the  deepening 
twilight,  humbly  watching  the  friends.  How 
unlike  the  proud  man  who  had  so  bitterly 
resented  his  little  son's  preferring  another  to 
himself! 

'  Will  you  come  here,  father  ?  I  cannot 
see  you  there.'  He  came  round  the  sofa, 
and  Tim  held  out  his  hand  to  him.  '  You 
and  Carol  must  love  one  another,'  he  said, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other,  'for  my  sake.' 
Silently  the  two  men  clasped  hands  over  the 
couch. 

'  You  must  leave  us  now,  Carol  dear,' 
Tim  went  on ;  'I  must  be  alone  with  my 
father.' 


318  TIM  CHAP,  xni 

Carol  longed  to  say  something,  but 
could  not ;  he  went  out  without  a  word.  Tim 
watched  him  walk  away  with  eyes  that  knew 
they  were  taking  their  last  look.  Then  a 
satisfied  smile  lit  up  his  face  as  he  turned  it 
to  his  father. 


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THE  CHILDREN'S  GARLAND  FROM  THE  BEST 
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DEUTSCHE  LYRIK.  The  Golden  Treasury 
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A  BOOK  OF  GOLDEN  THOUGHTS.  By  HENRY 
ATTWELL. 

ADDISON. — ESSAYS.  Chosen  and  Edited  by 
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DEFOE. — THE  ADVENTURES  OF  ROBINSON 
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HARE. — GUESSES  AT  TRUTH.  By  Two 
Brothers. 

HERRICK. — CHRVSOMELA.  Edited  by  Prof. 
F.  T.  PALGRAVE. 

HUGHES. — TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL  DAYS. 

KEATS.— THE  POETICAL  WORKS.  Edited 
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LAMB. — TALES  FROM  SHAKSPEARE.  Edited 
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LANDOR.— SELECTIONS.    Ed.  by  S.  COLVIN. 

LONGFELLOW. — POEMS  OF  PLACES  :  ENG 
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—  BALLADS,  LYRICS,  AND  SONNETS. 
MOHAMMAD. — SPEECHES  AND  TABLE-TALK. 

Translated  by  STANLEY  LANE-POOLE. 
NEWCASTLE. — THE     CAVALIER     AND     HIS 

LADY.     Selections  from  the  Works  of  the 

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With  an  Introductory  Essay  by  E.JENKINS. 
PLATO.— THE    REPUBLIC.      Translated    by 

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—  THE  TRIAL  AND  DEATH  OF  SOCRATES. 
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4o 


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HANDBOOK  OK  FIELD  AND  GENERAL  OR 
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FOWLER(W.  W.).  (Ste  NATURAL  HISTORY.) 
WHITE  (Gilbert).    (Sec  NATURAL  HISTORY.) 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

ABBEY  (E.  A.)   .        .        -37 
ABBOT  (F.  E.)   ...     33 

ATTWELL  (H.)  . 
AUSTIN  (Alfred) 

PAGE 

.       20 

BERNARD  (J.  H.)       . 
BERNARD  (M.)  .      .  . 

PAGE 

•     25 

12 

ABBOTT  (Rev.  E.)  3,  13,30,3! 
Aci.AND(Sir  H.  W.). 

33 

22 

AuTKNKiKTH  (Georg) 

AWDRY  (F.) 

7 

•  38 

BKRNKRS  (J.) 
BESANT  (W.)     . 

.        II 

4 

ADAMS  (Sir  F.  O.)    . 

28 

BACON  (Francis) 

19,  20 

BETHUNE-BAKER  (J.  F.) 

•     33 

ADAMS  (Herbert  B.). 
ADDISON    .         •         •         4, 

28 
2O 

P,AiNKs(Rev.  E.)      .         .     33 
BAKER  (Sir  S.W.)  28,30,37,38 

BETTANY  (G.  T.) 
BICKERTON  (T.  H.)  . 

.       6 

22 

AGASSIZ  (L.) 

3 

BALCH  (Elizabeth)     . 

12 

BlGELOW(M.  M.)        . 

12 

AiNGER(Rev.  A.)      .4,20, 

33 

BALDWIN  (Prof.  J.  M.) 

.   26 

BlKELAS  (D.)      . 

•        17 

AlNSLIE(A.  D.). 

BALFOUR  (Rt.  Hon.  A. 

J.)  ^ 

BINNIE  (Rev.  W.)      . 

•     33 

AIRY  (Sir  G.  B.)         .          2, 

27  !  BALFOUR  (F.  M.)      . 

•5,6 

BIRKS  (T.  R.)    .     6,  25, 

3°,  33 

AITKEN  (Mary  C.)    . 

20 

BALFOUR  (J.  B.) 

6 

BJORNSON  (B.)  . 

•     17 

AITKEN  (Sir  W.) 

2  7 

BALL  (V.)  . 

^3 

BLACK  (W.)       . 

4,  17 

ALBF.MARLF.(Earlof) 

3 

BALL  (W.  Platt) 

.     '6 

BLACKHUKNE  (E  )     . 

3 

ALDRICH  (T.  B.) 

BALL  (W.  W.  R.)       . 

22 

BI.ACKIR  (J.S.)         .  9, 

14,  19 

ALEXANDER  (C.  F.)  . 

20 

BALI.ANCE  (C.  A.)     . 

22 

BLAKE  (T.F.)    . 

2 

ALEXANDER  (T.) 

8 

BARKER  (Lady) 

2,  8,  37 

BLAKE(W.)       . 

3 

ALEXANDER  (BUhop) 
ALLBUTT  (T.  C.) 

33 
•-J-J 

BARNARD  (C.)  . 
BARNES  (W.)     . 

•     27 

3 

BLAKISTON  (J.  R.)    . 
BLANFORD(H.  F.)    . 

.       8 
9-  27 

ALLEN  (G.) 

6 

BARRY  (Bishop). 

•     33 

BLANFORD(W.  T.)   . 

9,  24 

Al.LINGHAM  (W.) 

20 

BARTHOLOMEW  (J.  G.) 

Bl.OMFIELD  (R.) 

9 

AMIEL(H.F.)  . 

a 

BARTLETT(J.). 

7 

BLYTH  (A.  W.)  . 

ii 

ANDERSON  (A.). 

14 

BARWELL(R.)  . 

22 

BOHM-BAWEKK  (Prof.) 

.     28 

ANDERSON  (Dr.  McCall)  . 

22 

BASTABLE  (Prof.  C.  F.) 

.        28 

BOISSEVAIN  (G.  M.)  . 

.     28 

ANDREWS  (Dr.  Thomas)    . 

26 

BASTIAN(H.  C.) 

6,   22 

BOLDRF.WOOD  (Rolf). 

J7 

API-LETON  (T.  G.)     . 

37 

BATESON  (W.)  . 

.       6 

BONAR  (J.) 

.     -28 

ARCHER-HIND  (R.  D.) 

36 

BATH  (Marquis  of)  . 

.    28 

BOND  (Rev.  J.). 

•     31 

ARNOLD,  M.   8,14,19,20,21, 

3° 

BATHER  (Archdeacon) 

•     33 

BOOLE  (G.)        .        .   . 

.     26 

ARNOLD  (Dr.  T.) 

9 

BAXTER  (L.)     . 

3 

BOUGHTON  (G.  H.)     . 

•     37 

ARNOLD  (W.T.) 

9 

BEESLY(MrS-)    . 

9 

BOUTMY  (E.)       . 

12 

ASHLEY  (W.  JO- 
ATKINSON  (J.  B.) 
ATKINSON  (Rev.  J.  C.)       i, 

3     BENHAM  (Rev.  W.)  .   5 
2      BENSON  (Archbishop) 
38  1  BERLIOZ  (H.) 

>  20,  32 

S2,  33 

3 

BOWEN(H.C.). 

BOWER  (F.  O.)  . 
BRIDGES  (J.  A.). 

•       25 

.       6 

INDEX. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

BRIGHT  (H.  A.).        .        -      9 

CLARKE  (C.  B.).        .         9,  28 

DlLLWYN  (E.  A.)          .            .       17 

BRIGHT  (John)  .         .       28,  29 

CLAUSIUS  (R.)  .        .        .     27 

DOBSON  (A.)              .        .4 

BRIMLEY(G-)    .        .        -19 
BRODiE(Sir  B.C.)    .         .       7 

CLIFFORD  (Ed.)         .        .       3 
CLIFFORD  (\\~.  K.)     .        IQ,  26 

DONALDSON  (J.)        .         .     33 

DONISTHOKPE  (W.)    .            .       29 

BRODRIBB  (W.  J.)     .       13,  37 

CLIFFORD  (Mrs.  W.  K.)     ."    38 

DOWDEN  (E.)    .         .  4,  13,  15 

BROOKE  (Sir  J.)        .         .       3 

CLOUGH  (A.  H.)         .        14,  19 

DOYLE  (Sir  F.  H.)     .         .     14 

BROOKE  (S.  A.)         .13,  14,  21 

COUUEX  (R.)      .         .         -29 

DOYLE  (J.  A.)    .         .         .10 

BROOKS  (Bishop)       .         .     33 
BROWN  (A.  C.)  .         .         .     26 

COHEN  (J.  B.)    ...       7 

COLENSO  (J.  W.)           .            .       3* 

DRAKE  (B.)       .                 .36 
DRUMMOND  (Prof.  J.)       .    34 

BROWN  (J.  A.)  .         .        .       i 

COLERIDGE  (S.  T.)    .         .     14 

DRYDEN     .        .        .        .20 

BROWN  (Dr.  James)  .         .       4 

COLLIER  (Hon.  John)        .       2 

Du  CANE  (E.  F.)       .        .     29 

BROWN  (T.  E.)  .        .        .14 

COLLINS  (J.  Churton)         .     19 

DuFF(Sir  M.E.Grant)  20,29,37 

BROWNE  (J.  H.  B.)    .         .     n 

COLQUHOUN  (F.  S.)     .            .       14 

DUNSMUIR  (A.).        .         .     17 

BROWNE  (Sir  T.)       .         .     20 

COLVIN  (Sidney)         .          4,  20 

DUNTZER(H-).             .             -4,5 

BROWNE  (W.  R.)       .        .     27 

COMBE  (G.)         ...       8 

Dui-RE(A.)        ...       7 

BRUNTON(Dr.T.Lauder)  22,  33 

CONGREVE  (Rev.  J.)  .         .     33 

DYER(L.).        .        .        .       i 

BRYCE  (James)  .         .  9,  28,  37 

CONWAY  (Hugh)        .         .     17 

EADIE  (J.).         .         .  4,  3°>  31 

BUCHHEIM  (C.  A.)     .        .     20 

COOK  (E.  T.)      .         .         .2 

EASTLAKE  (Lady)     .         .     32 

BUCKLAND  (A.).            .            .         5 

BUCKLEY  (A.  B.)       .        .9 

COOKE  (C.  Kinloch)  .         .     24 
COOKE  (J.  P.)    .         .          7,  34 

EBERS(G.)         .         .         •     J7 
EDGEWORTH  (Prof.  F.  Y.).     28 

BuCKNILL(Dr.  J.C.)            .       22 

CORBETT  (J.)       .            .    4,   17,  38 

EDMUNDS  (Dr.  W.)    .         .     22 

BUCKTON  (G.  B.)      .        .     40 

CORFIELD  (W.  H.)       .             .       II 

ED\VAKD.s-Moss(Sir  J.  E.)    30 

BUNYAN      .            .            .4,  19,  20 

CORRY  (T.  H.)  .         .         .6 

EIMER  (G.  H.  T.)      .        .6 

BURGON(J.W.)             .           .       I4 
BUKKE  (E.)          .                        .       28 

COTTERILLQ.H.)      .            .         8 

COTTON  (Bishop)       .         .     34 

ELDERTON  (W.  A.)  .        .       9 
EI.LERTON  (Rev.  J.).        .     34 

BURN  (R.).        ...       i 

COTTON  (C.)      .        .        .12 

ELLIOT  (Hon.  A.)      .         .     29 

BURNETT  (F.  Hodgson)  .     17 

COTTON  (J.S.)  .         .         .     29 

ELLIS  (T.).         ...       2 

BURNS        .                 .14,  20 

COUES  (E.)         .         .         .40 

EMERSON  (R.  W.)     .         4,  20 

BUKY(J.  B.)      ...       9 

CouKi  _.OTE  (W.  J.)  .         .       4 

EVANS  (S.)        ...     14 

BuTCHER(Prof.  S.  H.)  13,19,36 

COWELL  (G.)         .             .             -23 

EVERETT  (J.D.)       .        .     26 

BUTLER  (A.  J.).        .        .     37 

COWI'ER       .             .            .            .20 

FALCONER  (Lanoe)    .         .     17 

BUTLER  (Rev.  G.)     .        .     33 

Cox  (G.  V.)        ...       9 

FARRAR  (Archdeacon)  5,30,34 

BUTLER  (Samuel)      .        .     14 

CRAiK(Mrs.)i4,  17,  19,20,  37,  38 

FARRER(SirT.  H.)   .         .     29 

BUTLER  (W.  Archer)         .     33 

CRAIK  (H.)        .         .         8,  29 

FAULKNER  (F.).        .        .       7 

BUTLER  (Sir  W.  F.)  .        .       4 

CRANE  (Lucy)   .         •         2>  39 

FAWCETT  (Prof.  H.)  .       28,  29 

BYRON        .         .         .        .20 

CRANE  (Walter).         12,  14,  39 

FAWCETT  (M.  G.)     .         5,    8 

CAIRNES  (J.  E.)         ,         .     29 

CRAVEN  (Mrs.  D.)     .         .8 

FAY  (Amy)         ...       4 

CALDECOTT  (R.)       .12,  38,  39 

CRAWFORD  (F.  M.)    .         .     17 

FEARNLEY(\V.)         .        .       7 

CALDERWOOD  (Prof.  H.) 

CREIGHTON  (Bishop  M.)  4,  10 

FEARON  (D.  R.)        .        .8 

8,  25,  26,  33 

Cl<ICHTON-BROWNE(SirJ.)         8 

FERREL(\V.)     ...       7 

CALVERT  (Rev.  A.)  .         .     31 

CROSS  (J.  A.)      .         .         -30 

FERRERS  (N.  M.)       .         .       7 

CAMERON  (V.  L.)       .        .     37 

CROSSLEY  (E.)  ...       2 

FESSENDEN  (C.)        .         .     26 

CAMPBELL  (J.  F.)      .        .     37 

CROSSLEY  (H.)  .         .         .37 

FiNCK(H.  T.)  ...       i 

CAMPBELL  (Dr.  I.  M.)       .     33 

GUMMING  (L.)   .         .         .26 

FISHER  (Rev.  O.)      .       26,  27 

CAMPBELL  (Prof.  Lewis)    5,13 

CUNNINGHAM  (C.)    .         .     28 

FiSKE(J.).          6,  9,  25,  29,  34 

CAPES  (W.W.).         .        .     13 

CUNNINGHAM  (Sir  H.  S.)  .     17 

FisoN(L.).         ...       i 

CARLES  (W.  R.)         .        .     37 

CUNNINGHAM  (Rev.  J.)     .     31 

FITCH  (J.  G.)    ...      8 

CARLYLE  (T.)    ...      3 

CuNNiNGHAM(Rev.W)3i,33,34 

FITZ  GERALD  (Caroline)  .     14 

CARMARTHEN  (Lady)        .     17 

CUNYNGHAME  (Sir  A.  T.)  .  '    23 

FITZGERALD  (Edward)     14,  20 

CARNARVON  (Earl  of)       .     36 

CURTEIS  (Rev.  G.  H.)      32,  34 

FITZMAURICE  (Lord  E.)    .       5 

CARNOT  (N.  L.  G.)   .        .     27 

DAHN  (F.)          .         .         .     17 

FLEAY  (F.  G.)   .         .        .     13 

CARPENTER  (Bishop)         .     33 

DAKYNS(H.  G.)        .         .     37 

FLEISCHER  (E.).        .         .       7 

CARR(J.C)         ...         2 

DALE  (A.  W.  W.)      .         .     31 

FLEMING  (G.)    ...     17 

CARROLL  (Lewis)       .       26,  38 

DALTON  (Rev.  J.  N.)         .     37 

FLOWER  (Prof.  W.  H.)       .     39 

CARTER  (R.  Brudenell)    22,  23 

DANTE       .         .         .3,  13,  37 

FLUCKIGER  (F.  A.)    .        .     23 

CASSEL  (Dr.  D.)                 .9 

DAVIES  (Rev.  J.  LI.).  20,  31,  34 

FORBES  (A.)       .        .         4,  37 

CAUTLEY(G.  S.)        .        .     14 

DAVIES(W.)      ...       5 

FORBES  (Prof.  G.)      .        .3 

CAZENOVE  (J.  G.)      .         .     33 

DAWKINS(\V.  B.)      .        .       i 

FORBES  (Rev.  G.  H.)         .     34 

CHALMERS  (J.  B.)      .        .8 

DAWSON  (G.  M.)        .        .       9 

FOSTER  (Prof.  M.)     .         6,  27 

CHALMERS  (M.  D.)   .         .     29 

DA\vsoN(SirJ.\V.)  .         .       9 

FOTHERGILL  (Dr.  J.  M.)     8,23 

CHAPMAN  (Elizabeth  R.)  .     14 
CHASSERESSE  (Diana)       .     30 

DAWSON  (J.)               .         .1 
DAY(L.  B.)        ...     17 

FOWLE  (Rev.  T.  W.).        29,  34 
FOWLER  (Rev.  T.)     .         4,  25 

CHERRY  (R.  R.)         .         .     12 

DAY  (R.  E.)       ...     26 

FOWLER  (W.W.)       .        .     24 

CHEYNE(C.  H.  H.)  .         .       2 

DEFOE  (D.)        .         .         4,  20 

Fox  (Dr.  Wilson)       .         .     23 

CHEYNE  (T.  K.)         .        .     30 

DEIGHTON  (K.).        .        .     15 

FOXWELL  (Prof.  H.  S)        .     28 

CHRISTIE  (J.)    .         .         -23 

DELAMOTTE  (P.  H.).         .       2 

FRAMJI  (D.)       ...       9 

CHRISTIE  (W.  D.)      .         .     20 

DELL  (E.G.)      ...     12 

FRANK-LAND  (P.  F.)  .         .       i 

CHURCH  (Prof.  A.  H.)        .      6 

DE  MORGAN  (M.)     .        .     39 

FRASER  (Bishop)       .         .     34 

CHURCH  (Rev.  A.  J.)     4,30,37 

DE  VERE  (A.)    .         .         .20 

FRASER-TYTLER  (C.  C.)    .     14 

CHURCH  (F.J.).         .       20,37 

DICEY  (A.  V.)    .         .        12,  29 

FRAZER  (J.  G.)  .        .                i 

CHURCH  (Dean)  3,4,13,19,31,33 

DICKENS  (C.)     .         .         5,  17 

FREDERICK  (Mrs.)     .         .       8 

CLARK  (J.  W.)  ...     20 

DiGGLK(Rev.J.  W.).         .     34 

FREEMAN  (Prof.  E.  A.) 

CLARK  (L.)        ...       2 

DILKE  (Ashton  W.)  .        .     19 

2,  4,  10,  29,  32 

CLARK  (S.)         ...       3 

DILKE  (Sir  Charles  W.)    .     29 

FRENCH  (G.  R.)         .        .     13 

INDEX. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

1'AGE 

FRIEDMANN  (P.)       .        .       3 

HARTE  (Bret)    .         .         -17 

JO.XES  (Prof.  D.  E.)  .         .     27 

FROST  (A.  B.)    ...     38 

HARTic(Dr.  R.)        .    '    .       6 

JONES  (F.).        ...       7 

FROUDE  (J.  A.).        .        .      4 

HARTLEY  (Prof.  W.  N.)    .       7 

KANT         .         .         .         .25 

FURNISS  (Harry)        .         .     38 

liAkvVOOL)  (G.)  .            .21,   29,   32 

KAKI            .          .          .          -39 

FUHNIVALL  (F.  J.)      .           .-14 

HAYES  (A.)        .         .         .14 

KAVANAGn(Rt.Hn.A.M.)       4 

KYKFE(C.A.)     .           .           .10 

HEADLAM  (W.).         .         .     36 

KAY  (Rev.  W.).         .         .     31 

FYFE(J.  H.)      .         .         .     10 

HELPS  (Sir  A.)  .         .         .     21 

KEARY  (Annie).           10,  18,  39 

GAIRDNER  (J.)  .        .               4 

HFMPEL  (Dr  W  )                      7 

KE\RY  (Eliza)                          39 

GALTON  (F.)     .        .         i,  27 

HERODOTUS       .        .        .36 

KEATS        .         .         .4,  20,  21 

GAMGEE  (Arthur)      .         .     27 

HERRICK  .         .        .        .20 

KELLNER  (Dr.  L.)     .         .     25 

GARDNER  (Percy)      .        .       i 

HERTEL(Dr.)     ...          8 

KELLOGG  (Rev.  S.  H.)      .     34 

GARNETT  (R.)  .        .        .     14 

HERVEY  (Lord  A.)    .         .     34 

KEMPE(A.  B.)  .        .        .     26 

GARNETT  (W.)  .        .        .       5 

HILL  (F.  Davenport).         .     29 

KENNEDY  (Prof.  A.  B.  W.)       8 

GASKELL  (Mrs.)        .        .     12 

HlLL(O-).            ...       29 

KENNEDY  (B.  H.)      .         .     36 

GASKOIN  (Mrs.  H.)  .         .     30 

HIORNS(A.  H.)         .        .     23 

KEYNES(J.N-).        .       26,28 

GEDDES(W.  D.)        .       13,37 

HOBART  (Lord)          .         .     21 

KlEI'ERT(H.)                                         • 

GEE  (W.  H.)      .        .       26,  27 

HOBDAY  (E.)     ...       9 

KlLLEN  (W.  D.)            .            .       32 

GKIKIE  (Sir  A.).        .    4,9,27 

HODGSON  (Rev.  J,  T.)       .       4 

KINGSLEY  (Charles)  .    4,1,10, 

GENNADIUS  (J.)        .        .     17 
GIBBINS  (H.de  B.)    .         .     10 

HOFFDING  (Prof.  H.)        .     26 

HOFMANN  (A.  W.)      .            .          7 

11,12,13,15,18,21,24,32,37,39 
KINGSLEY  (Henry)    .        20,  37 

GIBBON  (Charles)       .         .       3 
GILCHRIST  (A.).         .         .       3 

HOLE  (Rev.  C.).         .          7,  10 
HOLIDAY  (Henry)     .         .     38 

KIPLING  (J.  L.).        .        .     38 
KIPLING  (Rudyard)  .         .     18 

GILES  (P.).        .        .        .     25 

HOLLAND  (T.  E.)      .        12,  29 

KlRKPATKICK   (Prof.)            .       34 

GlLMAN(N.  P.)             .            .       28 

H»LLWAY-CALTHROP(H.)      38 

KLEIN  (Dr.  E.).         .          6,  23 

GILMORE  (Rev.  J.)    .        .     13 

HOLMES  (O.  W.,junr.)      .     12 

KNIGHT  (W.)    .        .        -14 

GLADSTONE  (Dr.  J.  H.)       7,8 

HOMER      ...        13,  36 

KUENEN  (Prof.  A.)    .         .     30 

GLADSTONE  (VV.  E.).        .     13 

HOOKER  (Sir  J.  D.)  .         6,  37 

KY.XASTON  (Rev.  H.)       34,  37 

GLAISTER(E.)  .        .        .  2,  8 

HOOLE(C.  H.)  .            .            .       30 

LABBERTON  (R.  H.).         .       3 

GODFRAY(H.)    ...         3 

HOOPER  (G.)      ...       4 

LAFARGUE  (P.).        .        .     18 

GODKIN  (G.  S.).        .        .       5 

HOOPER  (W.  H.)        .        .       2 

LAMB.        .         .         .4,  *o,  21 

GOETHE     .         .        .         4,  14 

HopE(F.J.)      ...       9 

LANCIANI  (Prof.  R.).        .       2 

GOLDSMITH       4,  12,  14,  20,  21 

HOPKINS  (E.)    ...     14 

LANDAUER  (J.).        .        .       7 

GOODALE  (Prof.  G.  L.)      .       6 

Hoppus(M.  A.  M.)  .        .     18 

LAXDOR     .        .        .         4,  20 

GOODFELLOW  (J.)        .            .       II 

HORACE     ...       13,  20 

LANE-POOLE  (S.)      .        .     20 

GORDON  (General  C.  G.)  .       4 

HoRT(Prof.  F.J.A.).       30,32 

LANFREY  (P.)   ...       5 

GORDON  (Lady  Duff)        .     37 

HORTON  (Hon.  S.  D.)        .     28 

LANG  (Andrew).      2,  12,  21,  36 

GoscHEN(Rt.  Hon.G.J.).     28 

HOVENDEN  (R.  M.)  .         .     37 

LANG  (Prof.  Arnold).         .     39 

GOSSE  (Edmund)       .         4,  13 

HOWELL  (George)     .         .     28 

LANGLEY  (J.  N.)       .        .     27 

Gow(J.)    ....       i 

HOWES  (G.  B.)  .        .        .     40 

LAXKESTER  (Prof.  Ray)    6,  21 

GRAHAM  (D.)    .        .        .14 

HOWITT  (A.  W.)        .         .       i 

LASLETT(T.)    ...       6 

GRAHAM  (J.W.)        .        .     17 
GRAND'HOMME(E.)  .        .       8 

HOWSON  (Very  Rev.  J.  S.)      32 
HoziER(Col.H.  M.).         .     24 

LEAF  (W.).         .         .        13,  36 
LEAHY  (Sergeant)     .         .     30 

GRAY  (Prof.  Andrew)        .     26 

HUBNER  (Baron)        .         .     37 

LEA(M.)  .         .         .         .     18 

GRAY  (Asa)         ...       6 

HUGHES  (T.)     4,  15,  18,  20,  37 

LHE  (S.)     ...        20,  37 

GRAY     ...       4,  14,  21 

HULL(E.).         .         .         .  2,  9 

LEEPER(A.)      .        .         .37 

GREEN  (J.  R.)   .     9,  10,  12,  20 

HULLAH  (J.)        .             .    2,  2O,  24 

LEGGE  (A.  O.)   .        .       10,  34 

GREEN  (Mrs.  J.  R.)  .    4,  9,  10 
GREEN  (W.  S.)  .         .        .     37 
GREENHILL(W.  A.)  .        .     20 

HUME(D.)             ...          4 

HuMi'HRY(Prof.SirG.M.)  28,39 

HUNT(W.)            ...       10 

LEMON  (Mark)  ...     20 
LESLIE  (A.)        .        .        .38 
LETHHRIDGE  (Sir  Roper)  .     10 

GREENWOOD  (J.  E.)  .        .     39 
GRIFFITHS  (W.  H.)  .        .     23 

HUNT  (W.  M.)  ...       2 
HUTTON  (R.  H.)       .         4,  21 

LEVY  (Amy)       .         .         .18 
LEU-IS  (R.)        ...     13 

GRIMM       .        .        .        .39 

HUXLEY  (T.)  4,  21,  27,28,  29,40 

LiGHTFOOT(Bp.)2i,3o,3i,33,34 

GROVE  (Sir  G.).         .         9,24 

IDDINGS  (J.  P.).        .         .       9 

LlGHTWOOD  (J.  M.)  .           .       12 

GUEST  (E.)        .        .        .     10 
GUEST  (M.J.)                    .     10 

ILLINGWORTH  (Rev.  J.  R.)    34 
INGRAM  (T.  D.)         .         .     10 

LINDSAY  (Dr.  J.  A.)  .        .     23 

LOCKYER(J.  N.)           .       3,  7,   27 

GUILLEMIN  (A.)           .           26,  27 

IRVING  (J.)        .        .         .10 

LODGE  (Prof.  O.J.)  .       21,  27 

GUIZOT(F.  P.  G.)     .        .      5 

IRVING  (Washington)         .     12 

LOEWY(B.)        .        .        .26 

GUNTON  (G.)       ...       28 

HALES  (J.  W.)  .        .       16,  20 

JACKSON  (Helen)       .         .     18 
JACOB  (Rev.  J.  A.)    .         .     34 

LoFTiE(Mrs.  W.J.).         .       2 
LONGFELLOW  (H.  W.)       .     20 

HALLWARD  (R.  F.)   .        .     12 
HAMERTON  (P.  G.)  .         2,  21 

JAMES  (Henry).         .  4,  iS,  21 
JAMES  (Rev.  H.  A.)  .         .     34 

LONSDALE  (J.)  .         .        20,  37 
Lo\v-E(W.  H.)  .         .         .30 

HAMILTON  (Prof.  D.  J.)    .     23 

JAMES  (Prof.  W.)       .         .     26 

LOWELL  (J.  R.).         .       15,  21 

HAMILTON  (J.).        .        .     34 

JAMES  (Sir  W.  M.)    .         .     10 

LuBBOCK(Sir  J.)  6,  8,  21,  22,  40 

HANBURY  (D.)  .        .         6,  23 

JARDINE  (Rev.  R.)    .         .     26 

LUCAS  (F.)         ...     15 

HANNAY  (David)      .         .       4 

JEANS  (Rev.  G.  E.)   .        34,  37 

LUI-TON  (S.)      ...       7 

HARDWICK  (Archd.  C.)    31,  34 
HARDY  (A.  S.)  .        .        .     17 
HARDY  (T.)       ...     17 

JEBB  (Prof.  R.  C.)      .  4,  10,  13 
JELLETT  (Rev.  J.  H.)        .     34 
JENKS  (Prof.  Ed.)     .         .     29 

LYALL  (Sir  Alfred)     .         .       4 
LYTE(H.  C.  M.)        .         .     10 
LYTTON  (Earl  of)      .         .18 

HARE  (A.  VV.)   ...     20 

JENNINGS  (A.  C.)       .        10,30 

MACALISTER  (D.)    .        .     23 

HARE(J.C.)     .        .       20,  34 

JEVONS  (W.  S.).      4,  26,  28,  29 

MACARTHUR  (M.)     .        .     10 

HARPER  (FatherThos.)  25,34 

JEX-BLAKE  (Sophia).         .       8 

MACAULAY  (G.  C.)    .        .     36 

HARRIS  (Rev.  G.  C.).        .     34 

JOHNSON  (Amy)         .         .     27 

MACCOLL  (Norman).         .     14 

HARRISON  (F.).        .     4,  5,  21 

JOHNSON  (Samuel)    .         .     13 

M'Cosn  (Dr.  J.)        .        25,  26 

HARRISON  (Miss  J.)  .        .       i 

JONES  (H.  Arthur)     .         .     15 

MACDONALD  (G.)      .        .     r6 

INDEX. 


43 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

MACDONKLI.  (J.)       •        .    29 

MORRIS  (Mowbray)  .         .       4 

POLLOCK  (Lady)         .         .       2 

MACKAILCJ.W.)       .         .     37 

MORRIS  (R.)      .         .        20,  25  |  POLLOCK  (W.  H.)      .         .       2 

MACKENZIE  (Sir  Morell)  .     23 

MoRSHEADfE.  D.  A.)           .       36 

POOLK  (M.  E.)    .             .             .       22 

MACLAGAN  (Dr.  T.).         .     23 

MOULTON  (I,.  C.)         .            .       15 

POOI.E  (R.  L.)    .         .         .11 

MACLAREX  (Rev.  Alex.)  .     34 

MUDIE  (C.  E.)  .         .         .15 

POPE  .         .         .         .         4,  20 

MACLAREX  (Archibald)     .     39 

Muix(M.  M.P.)       .        .       7 

POSTE  (E.)            .            .          27,  36 

MACLEAN  (W.  C.)     .         .     23 

MCLLER(H.)      .                                     6 

POTTER  (L.)      .        .         .22 

MACLE.u<(Rev.Dr.G.F.)  30,32  j  MULLIXGER  (J.  B.)   .         .     n 

POTTER  (R.)      .        .         .35 

M'LENNAN  (J-  F.)    i        .      i     MURPHY  (J.J.).        -        .    26 

PRESTON  (T.)    ...     27 

M'LENNAN  (.Malcolm)      .     18 

MURRAY  (D.Christie)       .     18 

PRICE  (L.  L.  F.  R.)   .        .     28 

MACMILLAN(ReV.  H.)  22,  35,  38 

MURRAY  (E.  C.  G.)  .         .     38 

PRICKAKD  (A.  O.)      .        .     22 

MACMILLAX  (.Michael)      5,  15 

MYERS  (E.)        .         .        15,  36 

PRINCE  ALBERT  VICTOR  .     37 

MACNAMARA  (C.)      .         .     23 

MYERS  (F.  W.  H.)     .  4,  15,  22 

PRINCE  GEORGE        .        .     37 

MACQUOID  (K.  S.)     .        .     18 

MYLNE  (Bishop)        .         .     35 

PROCTER  (F.)    .        .        .32 

MADOC(F.)       .         .         .     18 

NADAL(E.  S.)  ...     22 

PROPERT  (J.  L.)        .         .2 

MAGUIRE(J.F.)       .        .    39 

NETTLESHIP  (H.).    .        .     13 

RADCLIFFE  (C.  B.)   .        .      3 

MAHAFKY(Prof.  J.  P.) 

NEWCASTLE    (Duke    and 

RAMSAY  (W.)    ...       7 

2,    II.    IT..    -2'2,    25,    35,    38 

Duchess)         .         .         .20 

RANSO.ME  (C.  )  .        .        .13 

MAITLAND  (F.  \V.)  .       12,29 

NEV.-COMH  (S:)  .         .         .      3 

RATH  HONE  (W.)        .         .       8 

MALET(L.)                        .     18 

NEWTON  (Sir  C.  T.).         .       2 

RAWLINSON  (W.  G.).        .      z 

MA  LORY  (Sir  T.)        .         .     20 

NICHOI.G.)       .        .         4,13 

RAWNSLEY  (H.  D.)   .        .     15 

MANSFIELD  (C.  B.)  .         .       7 

NOEL  (Lady  A.)        .         .18 

RAY(P.K.)       ...     26 

MARKHAM  (C.  R.)    .        .      4 

NORDENSKIOLD  (A.  E.)       .       38 

RAYI.EIGH  (Lord)      .         .     27 

MARRIOTT(I.  A.  R.).         .       5 

NORGATE  (Kate)       .         .11 

REICHEL  (Bishop)     .         .     35 

MARSHALL  (Prof.  A.)        .     28 

NORRIS  (W.  E.)         .        .18 

REiD(J.S.)       ...     37 

MARSHALL  (M.  P)     .         .     28 
MAKTKL(C.)     .         .         -24 

NORTON-  (Charles  Eliot)    .       3 
NORTON  (Hon.  Mrs.)        15,  19 

REMSEN  (I.)      ...       7 
RENDALL  (Rev.  F.)  .       31,  35 

MARTIN  (Frances)    .         3,  39 

OLiPHANT(Mrs.  M.  O.  W.) 

RENDU  (M.  leC.)      .         .       9 

MARTIN  (Frederick).         .     28 
MARTIN  (H.  N.)        .         .     40 

4,  ii,  13,  IQ,  20,  39 
OLIPHANT  (T.  L.  K.)       22,25 

REYNOLDS  (H.  R.)    .        .     35 
REYNOLDS  (J.  R.)     .        .     23 

MAKTINEAU  (H.)              .      5 

OLIVER  (Prof.  D.)      .         .       6 

REYNOLDS  (O.).        .        .     n 

MARTINEAL  (J.)        .         .       5 
MASSON(D.)  4,5,15,16,20,22,26 

OLIVER  (Capt.  S.  P.).         .     38 
OMAN  (C.  W.)   .        .         .      4 

RICHARDSON  (B.  W.)       n,  23 
RICIIEY  (A.  G.).         .         .     12 

MASSON  (G.)     .        .         7,  20 

OSTWALD  (Prof.)        .         .       7 

ROBINSON  (Preb.  H.G.)  .     35 

MASSON  (R.  O.)         .        .     16 

OTTE(E.  C.)     .        .        .11 

ROBINSON  (J.  L.)       .         .     24 

MATURIN(RCV.  W.).         .     35 

PAGE(T.E.)     ...     31 

ROBINSON  (Matthew)        .       5 

MAUDSLEY  (Dr.  H.)  .        .     26 

PALGRAVE  (Sir  F.)    .        .     u 

ROCHESTER  (Bishop  of)    .       5 

MAURICE  (Fredk.Denison) 

PALGRAVE  (F.T.) 

ROCKSTRO  (W.  S.)     .         .       4 

8,  22,  25,  30,  31,  32,  35 
MAURICE  (Co!.  F.)     .  5,24,29 

2,  15,  16,  20,  21,  33,  39 
PALGRAVE  (R.  F.  D.)        .    20 

ROGERS  (J.  E.  T.)      .11,  28,  29 
ROMANES  (G.  J.)      .        .      6 

MAX  MULLER  (F.)    .         .     25 

PALGRAVE  (R.  H.  Inglis)  .     28 

RoscoE(Sir  H.E.)  .        .       7 

MAYER  (A.M.).         .         .     27 

PALGRAVE  (W.  G.)     15,  29,  38 

ROSEN  BUSCH(H.)      .         .       o 

MAYOR  (J.  B.)  .         .         .31 

PALMER  (Lady  S.)    .         .     19 

Ross  (P.)  .        .        .        .19 

MAYOR  (Prof.  J.  E.  B.)      .3,5 
MAZINI  (L.)       .        .         -39 

PARKER  (T.J.).         •          6,39 
PARKER  (W.  N.)        .         .     40 

ROSSETTI  (C.  G.)      .       15,  39 

ROUTLEDGE  (J.)           .             .       2Q 

M'CORMICK  (W.  S.)  .            .       I3 

MELDOLA  (Prof.  R.).   7,  26,  27 

PARKINSON  (S.)         .        .     27 
PARKMAN  (F.)  .        .        .11 

RowE(F.J-)                       .     16 
ROCKER  (Prof.  A.  W.)               7 

MENDENHALL  (T.  C.)       .    27 

PARSONS  (Alfred)       .         .12 

RUMFORD  (Count)       .            .       22- 

MERCIER  (Dr.  C.)      .         .     23 

PASTEUR  (L.)    .        .         .      7 

RUSHBROOKE  (W.  G.)         .      31 

MERCUR  (Prof.  J.)     .         .     24 

PATER  (W.  H.)          .  2,  19,  22 

RUSSELL  (Dean)        .         .     35 

MEREDITH  (G.).         .         .     15 
MEREDITH  (L.  A.)     .        .     12 

PATERSON  (J.)  .         .         .12 
PATMORE  (Coventry)        20,  39 

RUSSKLL  (Sir  Charles)       .     29 
RUSSELL  (W.  Clark)  .         4,  19 

MEYER  (E.  von)        .         .       7 
MIALL  (A.)        ...       5 

PATTESON  (J.  C.)      .         .5 
PATTISON  (Mark)      .     4,  5,  35 

RYLAND  (F.)                      .     13 
RYLE  (Prof.  H.  E.)    .         .30 

MlCHELET  (M.)             .            .11 

PAYNE  (E.  J.)    .        .        10,  29 

ST.  JOHNSTON  (A.)  .19,  38,  39 

MiLL(H.R.)    ...       9 

PEABODY  (C.  H.)       .          8,  27 

SADLER  (H.)      .        .        .       2 

MILLER  (R.K.).        .         .       3 

PEEL(E.).        ...     15 

SAINTSBURY  (G.)       .         4,13 

MILLIGAN  (Rev.  W.).       31,  35 

PEILE(J.).         ...     25 

SALMON  (Rev.  G.)     .         .     35 

MILTON     .         .          13,  15,  20 

PELI.ISSIHR  (E.)         .         .     25 

SANDFORD(M.  E.)    .         .       5 

MINCHIN  (Prof.  G.  M.)     .     15 

PENNELL  (J.)    ...       2 

SANDYS  (J.  E.).         .         .     38 

MINTO  (Prof.  W.)      .         4)  18 

PENNINGTON  (R.)     .         .       9 

SAYCE(A.H.)                     .     n 

MlTFORD  (A.  1'.)          .            .       18 

PENKOSF.  (F.C.)        .         .  i,  3 

SCHAFf.-(P.)         ...       30 

MIVART  (St.  George).         .      28 
MlXTER  (W.  G.)          .           .        7 

MOHAMMAD      .        .         .20 

PERRY  (Prof.  J.)        .         .     27 
PETTIGREW  (J.  B.)    .  6,  28,  40 
PHILLIMORE  (J.  G.)  .         .     12 

SCHLIEMANN  (Dr.)     .             .          2 
SCHORLEMMER  (C.)   .          .        7 
SCOTT  (D.  H.)  .        .         .6 

MOLESVrOKTH  (Mr.S.)            .      39 
MOLLOY   ((j.)       .             .             .26 

PHILLIPS  (J.  A.)         .         .     23 
PHILLIPS  (W.  C.)       .         .       2 

SCOTT  (SirW.).         .        I5|  20 
SCRATCHLEY  (Sir  Peter)    .     24 

MONAHAN  (J.  H.)       .             .       12 

PlCTON  (J.  A.)    .             .             .22 

SCUDDER  (S.  H.)           .             .       40 

MONTELIUS  (O.)          .            .          I 

PlFFARD  (H.  G.)          .           .      23 

SEATON  (Dr.  E.  C.)  .        .     23 

MOORE  (C.  H.).         .         .       2 

PLATO        .         .         .         .20 

SEELEY(T.R.).        .        .11 

MOORHOUSE  (Bishop)        .     35 

PLUMPTRE  (Dean)    .         .     35 

SEILEK  (Dr.  Carl)      .        23,  28 

MORISON  (J.)      .                          .15 

POLLARD  (A.  W.)      .         .     37 

SELBORNE(Earlof)  12,20,32.3? 

MORISON  (J-  C.)        .         .  3,  4 

PoLi.oci<:(SirFk.,2nd  Bart.)     5 

SELLERS  (E.)    .        .        .2 

MORI.EY  (John).       3,  4,  16,  22 

PoLLOCK(Sir  F.,  Bart.)  12,22,29 

SERVICE  (J.)     .        .      32,35 

44 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

SEWELL  (E.  M.)        .        .n 

TANNER  (H.)     . 

I 

!  WARD  (A.  W.)  .         .  4,  13,  20 

SHAIRP  (J.  C.)  .        .         4,  15 

TAVERNIER  (J.  B.)    . 

•       38 

i  WARD  (H.  M.)  ...       6 

SHAKESPEARE  .    13,  15,  20,  21 

TAYLOR  (Franklin)    . 

•       24 

i    WARD(S.).            .            .            .       10 

SHA.VN  iG.l      .        .        8,  27 

TAYLOR  (Isaac). 

25,  35 

!  WARD  (T.  H.)   v        .         .16 

SHARP  (W.)       ...       5 

TAYLOR  (Sedley) 

24,  27 

1  WARD  (Airs.  T.  H.)  .       19,  39 

SHEI.LEY  .        .        .        15,  21 

TEGETMEIER  (W.  B.) 

8 

i  WARD  (W.)        .         .          5,  32 

SHIRLEY  (W.  N.)       .         .     35 

TEMPLE  (Bishop) 

•      35 

i  WARINGTON  (G.)       .        .     36 

SHORTHOUSE  (J.  H.)        .     19 

TEMPLE  (Sir  R.) 

4 

j  WATERS  (C.  A.)         .        .     28 

SHORTLAND  (Admiral)      .     24 

TENNANT  (Dorothy). 

•      33 

;  WATERTON  (Charles)       24,  38 

SHCCHHARDT  (Carl).        .       2 

TENNIEL    . 

-      38 

j  WATSON  (E.)     ...       5 

SHUCKBURGH  (E.  S.)       11,36 

TENNYSON         .          14, 

16,    2! 

!  WATSON  (R.  S.)         .         .38 

SHUFELDT  (R.  W.)   .        .     40 

TENNYSON  (Frederick) 

.     16 

i  WEHH(W.  T.)   .         .        16,  37 

SIBSON  (Dr.  F.)         .        .     23 

TENNYSON  (Hallam). 

I2>  39 

WEBSTER  (Mrs.  A.)  .         .     39 

SIDGWICK  (Prof.  H.)  26,  28,  29 
SIME  (J.)  .         .         .         9,  10 

THOMPSON  (D  'A.  W.) 
THOMPSON  (E.). 

.       6 
10 

WELBY-GREGORY  (Lady)  .     32 
WELLUON(Rev.J.  E.G.).     36 

SIMPSON  (Rev.  W.)  .        .     32     THOMPSON  (S.  P.)     . 

•     27 

WESTCCTT  (Bp.)    30,31,32,36 

SKEAT  (W.W.)        .        .     13 

THOMSON  (A.  W.)      . 

.       8 

WESTERMARCK  (E.).         .       i 

SKRINE  (J.H.).        .         5,15 

THOMSON  (Sir  C.  W.) 

.     40 

WETHERELL  (J.)       .        .     25 

SLADE  (J.  H.)   .        .        .8 

THOMSON  (Hugh) 

12 

WHEELER  (T.T.)       .        .     n 

SLOMAN  fRev.  A.)    .        .     31 

THOMSON  (Sir  Wm.)  24 

26,   27 

WHEWELL  (WA        .        .       5 

SMART  (W.)      ...     28 

THORNE  (Dr.  Thome) 

•        23 

WHITE  (Gilbert)        .         .     24 

SM  ALLEY  (G.W.)      .        .     22 

THORNTON  (J.). 

.      6 

WHITE  (Dr.  W.  Hale)        .     23 

SMETHAM  (J.)  .        .         .5 

THORNTON  (W.  T.)    26, 

29i  37 

!  WHITE  (W.)      ...     27 

SMITH  (A.)        .        .        .20 
SMITH  (C.  B.)  .         .        .     16 

THORPE  (T.  E.). 

THKIXG(E.) 

7 

8,    22 

i  WHITHAM  (J.  M.)     .         .       8 
WHITNEY  (W.  D.)     .        .       8 

SMITH  (Goldwin)      .     4,  5,  29 
SMITH  (H.)                         .     16 
SMITH  (J.)          ...       6 

THKUPP(J.  F.). 
THUDICHUM  (T.  L.W.) 
THURSFIELD(J.R.)- 

•     3° 
7 
4 

WHITTIER(J.  G.)      .        16,  22 
WICKHAM  (Rev.  E.  C.)     .     36 

WlCKSTEED  (P.  H.)  .           28,  30 

SMITH  (Rev.  T.)        .        .     35 

TODHUXTER  (I.) 

•  5,  8 

1    WlEDERSHEIM  (R.)    .            .       40 

SMITH(\V.G.)  •        •        •       ° 

TORRENS(W.  M.)        . 

5 

|    WlLBRAHAM(F.M.).            .       32 

SMITH  (W.  S.)   ...     35 

TOURGEXIEF  (I.  S.)    . 

•      19 

WILKIXS  (Prof.  A.  S.)  2,13,36 

SOMERVILLE  (Prof.  W.)       .          6 

Tour(T.  F.)     . 

1  1 

WILKINSON  (S.)         .         .     24 

SOUTHEY     ....          5 

Tozt-R(H.  F.)   . 

9 

WILLIAMS  (G.  H.)     .        .       9 

SPENDER  (J.  K.)        .        .     23 

TRAILL  (H.  DA 

4,  29 

WILLIAMS  (Montagu)       .       5 

SPENSER    .        .        .        .20 

TRENCH  (Capt.  F.)    . 

•     29 

WILLIAMS  (S.  E.)      .         .     13 

SPOTTISWOODE  (W.).        .     27 

TRENCH  (Archbishop) 

•     35 

WILLOUGHHY  (F.)      .         .     39 

STANLEY  (Dean)       .        .     35 

TREVEI.YAN  (Sir  G.  O.) 

.     ii 

WILLS  (W.  G.)  .        .         .16 

STANLEY  (Hon.  Maude)  .     29 

TRIBE  (A.). 

7 

WILSON  (A.  J.)  .        .         .     29 

STATHA.M  (R.)  .        .        -29 

TRISTRAM  (W.  O.)    . 

12 

WILSON  (Sir  C.)         .         .       4 

STEBBING(W.).        .        .       4 
STEPHEN  (C.  E.)        .        .       8 

TROLLOPE  (A.)  . 
TRUMAN  (J.)      . 

4 
.      16 

WILSON  (Sir  D.)        .     i,  3,  13 
WILSON  (Dr.  G.)        .     4,5,22 

STEPHEN  (H.)  ...     13 

TUCKER  (T.  G.) 

•     36 

WILSON  (Archdeacon)        .     36 

STEPHEN  (Sir  J.  F.)   n,  13,  22 

TULLOCH  (Principal). 

•     35 

WILSON  (Mary).         .         .     13 

STEPHEN  (J.  K.)        .         .     13 

TURNER  (C.  Tennyson) 

.      16 

WINGATE  (Major  F.  R.)  .     24 

STEPHEN  (L.)    ...       4 

TURNER  (G.)      . 

i 

WlNKWORTH  (C.)         .            .          5 

STEPHENS  (J.  B.)       .        .     16 

TURNER  (H.  H.) 

•     27 

WOLSELEY  (Gen.  Viscount)    24 

STEVENSON  (J.  J.)     .        .      2 

TURNER  (J.M.W.)  . 

12 

WOOD  (A.  G.)                      .     16 

STEWART  (A.)  .         .        -39 

TYLOR(E.  B.)    . 

! 

WOOD  (Rev.  E.  G.)    .        .     36 

STEWART  (Balfour)    26,  27,  35 

TYK\VHITT  (R.  St.  J.) 

2,    16 

WOODS  (Rev.  F.  H.).         .       i 

STEWART  (S.  A.)       .        .       6 

VAUGHAN  (C.  J.)    31,32 

35,36 

WOODS  (Miss  M.  A.).        16,  33 

STOKES  (Sir  G.  G.)    .        .     27     VAUHHAN  (Rev.  D.  J.) 
STORY  (R.H.).        .         .       3     VACCHAN  (Rev.  E.T.) 

20,   36 
•        S6 

WOODWARD  (C.  M.)  .         .       8 
WOOLNER  (T.)                    .     16 

STONE  (W.H.).        .        .     27 

VAVGHAX  (Rev.  R.). 

•       36 

WORDSWORTH  .      5,  14,  16,  21 

STRACHEY  (Sir  E.)    .        .     20 
STRACHEY(Gen.  R.).         .       9 

VEI.EY(M.) 

VENN  (Rev.  J.). 

•        19 
26,   36 

WORTHEY  (Mrs.)       .         .      19 
WRIGHT  (Rev.  A.)    .         .     3r 

STRANGFORo(Viscountess)    38 

VERNON  (Hon.  W.  W.) 

•        13 

WRIGHT  (C.  E.  G.)    .         .8 

STRETTELL  (A.)        .        .     16 

VERRALL(A.  W.)      . 

13,   36 

WRIGHT  (J.)              .        .21 

STUBBS  (Rev.  C.  W.).        .     35 

VERRALL  (Mrs.) 

WRIGHT  (L.)     .         .         -27 

STUBBS  (Bishop)        .        .     31 

WAIN  (Louis)     . 

•     39 

WRIGHT  (W.  Aldis)  8,  15,  20,  31 

SUTHERLAND  'A.)    .        .       9 

WALDSTEIN  (C.) 

2 

WURTZ  (Ad.)     ...       7 

SYMONDS  (J.  A.)        .        .       4 

WALKER  (Prof.  F.  A.) 

.        28 

WYATT  (Sir  M.  D.)  .         .       2 

SYMONDS  (Mrs.  J.  A.)       .       5 

WALLACE  (A.  R.)      .  6, 

24,    28 

YONGE  (C.  M.)  5,  6,  8,  10,  n, 

SYMONS  (A.)      .        .        .     16 

WALLACE  (Sir  D.  M.) 

•        29 

19.  21,25,  3°.  39 

TAIT  (Archbishop)    .         .     35 
TAIT  (C.  W.  A.)         .         .     ir 

WALPOLE(S.)    . 
WALTON  (I.)      . 

•        29 
12 

YouNG(E.W.)          .        .       8 
ZIEGI.ER  (Dr.  E.)                .23 

TAIT  (Prof.  P.  G.)      26,27,35 


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